You Found Me
by Jimelda
Summary: Jate. Off the island, Jack is unable to handle life without Kate. So he turns to the only other thing he knows...with drastic consequences. Help is on its way, but will she come too late? Takes place after the flash forwards in 4x10. Chapter 9 POSTED!
1. Getting Lost

**Title: **You Found Me  
**Rating: **PG-13 for mild language and substance abuse  
**Summary: **Jack is struggling to deal with life off the island when one day he takes things to far. Someone comes to the rescue, but will she make it in time? Takes place after the flash forwards in "Through the Looking Glass" and "Something Nice Back Home".  
**Disclaimer: **Neither Lost, nor the song (_You Found Me_ by The Fray) is mine, though I wish I'd had the brilliance to create them.  
**Author's Note: **I know the chorus isn't right (it actually says _lost and insecure_), but I wrote it this way because that's what I originally thought the lyrics said. Also, I think it fits better with the story this way. And I know this is kind of dramatic and depressing, but I have felt the need to write this ever since I heard the song - it reminds me so much of Jack.

As always, reviews are nice. I hope you like it. ;)

* * *

**Chapter 1: Getting Lost**

_I found God on the corner of First and Amistad.  
Where the West was all but won._

Pacing up and down the crowded street, Jack frantically glanced at each person passing by, searching for someone. As he stared at the people, he thought about how far he had fallen. But that didn't matter now. All that was important was finding this one person.

Each face he looked into wasn't the one he was hoping to see, though. Disappointment coursed through him, as well as other feelings. Need, helplessness, the never-ending feeling of being completely and utterly alone.

Finally, on the street corner, Jack saw him. The only one who could help him now.

_All alone, smoking his last cigarette.  
I said, "Where you been?"  
He said, "Ask anything."_

Jack stood in front of this man that he had been looking for so desperately.

"Where in god's name have you been?" he demanded. "I've waited here for more than an hour. Did you get it?"

The other man calmly replied, "Can you pay for it?"

Jack quickly passed him a roll of bills as the man discreetly slipped him something in return.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to get these?" he asked, but Jack was hardly paying attention anymore. His eyes had already begun to glaze over as he rubbed his thumb against the small bottle in his pocket.

"Hey! Are you listening?" the man practically shouted. "I said that's all I've got. So you'd better make good use of those, 'cause you ain't getting anymore for a long while. At least, not from me." He waited, watching Jack as the information sunk in.

Finally, Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah. Okay, well...thanks man," he said quietly. Then he walked away, his thoughts already turned back to what was in his pocket.

_Where were you when everything was falling apart?  
All my days were spent by the telephone that never rang._

Jack pushed open the door to his apartment; he never bothered to keep it locked anymore. There was nothing worth stealing anyway.

Falling down on his couch, he took the bottle out of his pocket and looked at it. He knew that all his problems would go away, as soon as he opened the top. But he didn't want to be like this anymore. He wanted to change.

So he put it down and reached for the phone that he always kept near him these days. He knew it was stupid, but he kept hoping that she would call him. When he was being rational, he understood that he had blown his chances with her long ago and she would never want to call him now. Would never want to see him again.

Though other times, he couldn't help but believe that she still loved him. And it was times like those that he would stare at the phone, just waiting for it to ring. Then it never did, and he felt like his heart was breaking all over again.

He knew it was his fault, he was the one who had driven her away. And today he was going to make things right. Picking up the phone, he tried to call her. But his hands were shaking so much that he could hardly press the keys.

Finally he managed to dial the right number. Holding the phone up to his ear, he knew exactly what to say. For the first time in a while, Jack was actually clearheaded and the words came easily to him.

Hearing her voice, he felt his heart lurch in his chest. He cared for her so much, that even listening to her made him want to hold her once more. He wanted to feel her near and tell her that everything would be alright.

"This is Kate Austen – " she began.

"Hey, Kate...I," he started to say. Then he froze.

" – Sorry, I'm not here to take your call right now. But please leave a message and I'll get back to you later."

Jack felt as though the world was falling out from under him. The one time he was ready to have a rational conversation with Kate, she didn't answer the phone. Not that she usually did anymore, because he was constantly calling her. But he needed to talk to her, to tell her how he felt. Before he lost himself again.

So he kept trying. He kept calling her, hoping she would pick up the phone. And after a long time – it could have been an hour or more, he didn't really care – he gave up. She wasn't going to answer. She had cut herself off from him. Maybe for good.

Feeling desperate and alone, Jack turned back to the only thing he knew.

Popping the top off the bottle, he shook its contents into his hand. The small green pills were the answer to his problems. He knew that they could make everything go away and make him forget. If only for a little while.

And suddenly he didn't care anymore. He just wanted it to be over.

_And all I needed was a call that never came to the corner of First and Amistad._

Kate heard the phone ring as she walked in the door. Racing to place her grocery bags on the counter, she lunged for it, but was too late. Wanting to see if whoever it was left a message, she turned to the answering machine. Blinking in shock, she wondered briefly if it had broken. There was no way she could have that many messages.

But as she played them, one by one, and heard nothing but silence, she realized who they were from.

Jack.

He was always calling her these days and she had learned not to pick up when it was him. He only ever called her when he was drunk or high, which was most of the time now.

"But why did he call me so many times?" she wondered aloud to herself. Though Kate would never admit it, she worried about him. All the time. And she couldn't help the fear she was feeling.

Against her better judgment, she dialed his cell phone, frowning at how familiar his new number was to her.

She waited impatiently as it rang and rang, then she hung up, knowing that she would get no voicemail message – Jack had never bothered to make one.

Now she was starting to worry. Jack always answered his phone, no matter what he was doing, or what kind of state he was in. She knew that he carried it everywhere with him, in case she decided to call him on it.

_And I am, Jack. So where are you?_ she thought frantically. Unable to control her actions, Kate called him again and again, hoping in vain that he would answer.

"Dammit Jack! Where are you?!" she shouted, banging her fist on the table. Now she knew that it really was time to panic.

Without making a conscious decision to do so, Kate ran out of the house and jumped in her car. She quickly pulled out of the driveway and headed in the direction of his apartment, driving at more than twice the speed limit. But she didn't care. All she needed was to make sure Jack was okay.

_Lost in its cure, you found me, you found me  
Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded. _

Running up the stairs to his apartment, Kate glanced out the window and saw that the sun was setting. For some reason, this filled her with a sense of urgency and she ran faster.

She pushed his door open, knowing that he didn't lock it, and didn't even flinch as it slammed against the wall. All she had eyes for was the sight in front of her.

Jack was sprawled on the ground. A bottle of pills lying beside him, empty.

"Oh god, Jack! No!" Kate found herself screaming as she ran to him. Grabbing for the tiny bottle, she spun it around to read the label. Oxycodone. Then she noticed that the name on the prescription wasn't his.

_Jack,_ she thought. _What have you done?_

_Why'd you have to wait?  
Where were you? Where were you?  
Just a little late you found me, you found me._

Lunging for the cell phone on the couch, Kate quickly dialed 9-1-1. While explaining what was wrong with Jack she tried her best to stay calm. She leaned over him to listen to his heart, as instructed by the person on the other end of the phone.

Laying her head against his chest, Kate listened for a pulse. And found one. It was weak, but at least Jack's heart was still beating. For now.

Kate knew he needed to get to a hospital, and she hoped the ambulance would arrive soon.

"Hold on Jack," she whispered, as tears streaked down her cheeks.

_But in the end everyone ends up alone.  
Losing her, the only one who's ever known  
Who I am, who I'm not and who I wanna be._

Through the fog filling his brain, Jack was dimly aware of someone next to him. He wondered briefly if it was Kate. Knowing that was unlikely, he tried to push the idea away. But the image of her face just wouldn't leave his head. So he let her in. He saw her from a thousand different angles, always smiling at him. Colours swirled around in his head, distracting him and catching him in a kaleidoscope of images.

It was getting harder for his emotions to make sense anymore, but Jack knew he was feeling something that he hadn't experienced in a long time. He was happy.

_I'm glad you came for me, Kate,_ he thought fuzzily. Then he let himself fall into the explosion of sensation going on in his head.

Through it all, he remembered flashes of his life and what it was like, back before everything had gone wrong. He and Kate talking on the couch, discussing his day at work, or what she had done while he'd been gone. He remembered holding her in his arms at night and knowing everything would be okay. And he'd believed it, until things had started to go wrong.

After a while he couldn't take it any longer. Being with Kate required him to be certain things that he wasn't. But though he didn't know how to handle it, Kate stayed by his side, helping him when he was sure he had lost himself for good.

Then he pushed her away. His own insecurities about their relationship were what ended the one thing he had left, the very thing he was trying to protect. And he only went downhill from there.

He wanted to be someone that Kate could turn to in a time of need and depend on. He wanted to "have her back," as she had promised him so long ago. But instead he had turned into his father. Pushing away the people he cared most about and falling deeper into the hole he had created for himself.

And now look where he was.

But he didn't want to think about those things now, and was having trouble focusing anyway. His train of thought became lost in the whirlwind of other images, swirling before his eyelids. So he let himself enjoy them, allowed himself get lost in the sensations, knowing they were probably the last things he would ever feel.

And in the end he was glad he got to be with Kate, if only in his mind. He was thankful to be with her the way he had before his life had gone so wrong.

_Thank you for being here, Kate_, he thought to himself. Then he was lost in his own head once more.

_No way to know how long she will be next to me._

"Jack!" she shouted frantically as she heard him mumble slightly. Kate waited, not daring to make a sound and hoping that he would wake up. But all she felt was his already faint heartbeat slow even more. "Hold on, they're gonna be here soon. Just stay with me." She clutched his hand fiercely, squeezing it hard enough that she hoped he could feel it. She hoped that somewhere, in whatever place he was in now, he could feel her with him.

_Lost in its cure, you found me, you found me  
Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded._

Looking down at Jack, Kate thought of all the things she wished she had said to him. All the times she wanted to tell him the way she felt. And now, seeing him lying there, she wished she'd had the courage. If only she'd cherished the time she used to have with Jack, then maybe he wouldn't be here like this. She looked at his empty bottle of pills and wondered how things had gotten so bad for him.

But then Kate realized that if Jack...she couldn't bear to think the word _died_, if he disappeared from her life, things would be pretty bad for her too. Kate had used to think this was what she wanted – Jack out of her life for good – but now she knew better.

"Just stay with me Jack. You're going to make it and when you do, I'll be right here with you." Kate only hoped that it wasn't too late.

_Why'd you have to wait?  
Where were you? Where were you?  
Just a little late, you found me, you found me._

She jumped when she heard someone banging on the door. Glancing up, she saw a team of paramedics run into the room. Kate moved out of their way as they leant over Jack, but she made sure to keep holding his hand. She knew it was stupid, but she thought that if he could feel her, Jack might fight harder.

Time passed slowly as Jack was injected with needles and other steps were taken to try and flush the medication out of his system. Then she watched helplessly as he was loaded onto a stretcher, out the door and into the elevator. Kate squeezed in before the doors closed, despite the looks from the medical team. On the ride down she begged them to let her stay with Jack, trying to explain her need to be with him. Before she could break into tears at the thought of being separated from Jack when he needed her most, the paramedics reluctantly agreed to let her ride in the ambulance with them.

Rushing through the apartment lobby, Kate hardly noticed the people staring. She didn't hear the whispers of conversation that started when she and the medics exited the elevator. All she was focused on was Jack.

_The early morning, the city breaks.  
And I've been calling for years and years and years and years  
And you never left me no messages._

Pushing open the front doors so the stretcher could fit through, Kate blinked in surprise. Looking past the buildings crowding the street, she could see how dark the sky had gotten. Though it was pitch black up in the atmosphere the lights from L.A. kept the stars hidden. She hadn't seen more than a few stars since the Island and for some strange reason Kate missed those twinkling specks in the sky.

But soon the sun would begin to rise once more and people would go about with their daily lives. She wondered how it was possible for the world to keep turning when Jack was about to disappear forever. Yet life still managed to go on.

She watched Jack get loaded into the ambulance, then hopped in before anyone could find a reason to protest. She took Jack's hand again and stared out the small window, thinking about what she would be doing on a regular day.

But as she glanced back down at Jack, she realized today wasn't a regular day. And if he didn't recover from this, she would never have a regular day again. A strong wave of sadness washed over her and the tears began to fall again, even though her every move was being watched by the paramedic in the back with her.

"Jack, don't leave me, please," she begged. "I can't live without you, and I can't bear the thought of it."

As the medic hooked Jack up to IV lines and screens to monitor his heart rate, Kate kept pleading with him.

"I know you're in there Jack. Don't leave me now." Frustrated when he showed no signs of hearing her, Kate began to shout. "Come on, Jack! Where are you? Come back to me!"

_You never sent me no letters.  
You got some kind of nerve taking all I want._

She almost didn't notice when his hand tightened around hers. But when Jack slowly opened his eyes, Kate gasped in surprise.

"Jack," she managed to choke out through her tears. "Thank god you're okay."

He looked at her sadly, pain filling his eyes as her voice broke. He wanted so badly to hold her and tell her everything would be okay, but he couldn't remember how to use his arms. So instead, he focused all his remaining energy on saying the words he needed to.

_Lost in its cure you found me, you found me  
Lying on the floor.  
Where were you? Where were you?_

"I'm sorry," he whispered. And he was, for everything. It was all his fault, because he couldn't handle life and didn't know how to deal with it. He needed Kate to understand.

So, putting all his feelings into those two words, he quietly said them again.

"I'm sorry." Then Jack closed his eyes once more. And all Kate could hear was the _beep beep beep_ of the heart-rate monitor.

_Lost in its cure, you found me, you found me  
Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded._

But as she watched, the beeps became less and less frequent, and Kate began to panic.

"How close are we to the hospital?" she demanded, turning to the paramedic.

"A few minutes at least," the man replied as he looked at Jack's monitor. "But I don't know if we're going to make it in time."

Kate felt her heart sink. "Isn't there anything you can do?" she shouted. "Please, do something!"

"I'm trying," the medic replied calmly, "but it may be out of my hands." The man turned to Jack and began adjusting all the wires attached to him.

_Why'd you have to wait?  
Where were you? Where were you?  
Just a little late, you found me, you found me._

Kate pulled Jack close and wept, her tears falling on his blank face. Though it looked like he was just sleeping, she knew better. He was dying – unless she could do something about it. Holding him in her arms, she listened as Jack's heart slowed down.

She kissed him on the forehead and whispered the words she had been afraid to say for so long.

"I love you."

Then Kate prayed that the ambulance would make it to the hospital in time.

_Why'd you have to wait to find me, to find me?_


	2. Goodbye

Wow, it's been a long time since I updated anything. Sorry about that, it's just been really hard to write this chapter.

**Disclaimer: **The song is by The Fray, and it's called _Never Say Never _(I'm sensing a theme here...) I did not make it nor do I have any claims to it. I'm a writer, not a musician. ;)  
**A/N: **Okay, apparently I am unable to write a short story. I guess I'm not good at sad endings, so here is another chapter for everyone who was waiting for more. I hope you like it, and that it's not too depressing. Also, I'm not a doctor, so I don't know what the proper medical procedures and terms would be in this case. I'm sorry if I get anything wrong, but please enjoy anyway. Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks. :)

* * *

**Chapter 2: Goodbye**

_We're pulling apart and coming together  
Again and again.  
We're growing apart but we pull it together.  
Pull it together, together again.  
Don't let me go._

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The never-ending sound slowly brought him out of his fog. It was all he could hear, and was doing nothing to help his sudden headache. Listening closely, he thought it sounded suspiciously like a heart-rate monitor.

He forced his eyes to open, then quickly closed them again to shut out the blinding light.

_Where am I_? he wondered. Before he could come up with an answer, a fierce shudder ran through his body. It was followed by a wave of nausea, which forced him to roll over and attempt to empty the contents of his stomach onto the tiled floor. But he hadn't eaten for a while, so there wasn't much to throw up.

When he was finished, he carefully propped himself up on the pillow and surveyed his surroundings. He was lying on a metal bed in what was obviously a hospital room. One that looked oddly familiar, in fact. And if he hadn't been so out of it, that would have bothered him. But he found himself quickly becoming distracted by the many noises drifting in and out of his room. He saw that the beeping was definitely coming from a heart-rate monitor and as he stared at it, he could feel his own heart beating in time with the sounds.

The sensation reminded him of last night and that was when it all came flooding back to him. The despair and crushing feeling of helplessness. The pills. Kate.

Her face, filled with concern, popped into his mind. He wondered if she had brought him here, or if he'd just imagined her presence as his brain reacted to the drugs.

Either way, she was gone now, and he was still alive – two things he didn't want. His pathetic excuse of a life hadn't ended and even though he'd tried to make it stop, it hadn't worked. He was still here, still alone.

_Why? _That was the question he kept coming back to. He didn't know who had saved him, but he was damn well going to find out.

Ripping an IV line out of his arm, he swung himself over the side of the bed. When he tried to stand, however, his legs gave out and he fell forward, crashing into the IV pole as he did so.

His head connected with the floor and spots danced before his eyes. As he lay there, unable to move, he saw a pair of high-heeled shoes run into the room.

"Shit! Someone, help!" That voice came with the shoes. He recognized it, though the pounding in his head – which had only increased since he'd hit the ground – made it hard to concentrate, so he wasn't quite sure who it belonged to.

Then he heard more footsteps and other voices shouting things he couldn't focus on enough to understand.

"What happened in here?"

"He's bleeding, and there's IV fluid all over the floor."

He tried to move, or help somehow, but it required too much effort. And he reminded himself that he didn't care anyway. If he died right here, it would just be nature course-correcting itself because he hadn't died the first time. Like some twisted version of fate.

He chuckled softly when he realized how much he sounded like Locke. How odd that he was comparing himself to that man, and now of all times. He laughed again – he couldn't help himself. It was as if something had been rewired in his brain and his emotions were making no sense anymore.

"Oh my god. He's still awake," said the first voice. He thought he heard it say something else, but everything was dimming and he couldn't hear properly.

"Get some anesthetic," someone else suggested. And before he could begin to feel any pain other than his headache, he felt a sharp prick in his arm.

It seemed as though he was falling into blackness, and last thing he saw was the red stained floor beneath him as he was lifted onto the bed. Then his eyes closed and he faded into oblivion once more.

* * *

When he awoke again, it felt as though his entire body was on fire.

In the back of his mind, he could feel that he face was flushed and knew he probably had a fever. But all he could think about was making it stop. Without opening his eyes, he reached around on the table by the side of the bed. His frustration grew as his hand kept coming back empty.

"They aren't there, you know."

His eyes snapped open in shock when he heard the familiar female voice. And suddenly he completely forgot about the burning pain that engulfed him. Because there she was, standing before him and looking beautiful, though her eyes tightened in anger when he looked at her.

"What?" he asked unintelligently.

"Your pills, Jack," she said, her voice cold and her expression giving nothing away. "There's none left. You used them all last night when you tired to – to..." she couldn't finish the sentence.

Kate had promised herself that she would show no emotions, she didn't want to let Jack see the turmoil she was feeling inside.

She was only here to say goodbye.

The night before, once the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Jack had been rushed to the emergency room. Several hours passed before she was allowed to go see him and during that time, as she waited to find out Jack's fate, she'd had nothing to do but think.

Sitting on a cold, plastic hospital chair, Kate realized she couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't keep trying to cut Jack out of her life, then rushing back to him whenever he needed her.

It had been his choice in the first place to act like this, so he should be the one to deal with the consequences. What she'd told Jack was true – she did still love him. But she needed to let him go; they weren't good for each other anymore.

Now that she was here, though, ready and finally able to bid Jack farewell for good, she couldn't do it. Not yet anyway.

Seeing him lying there, she found herself overcome with the need for an explanation. Why had he done it? What could he possibly have been feeling that made him want to end his life?

And the biggest question, one she didn't even want to admit that she was asking: How could he leave her like that? Even if she walked away from him and never looked back, Kate would take comfort in the fact that he would finally be able to move on – and so would she. But if he was gone, not just from her life, but from this earth, everything would seem pointless. A world without Jack was not a world Kate wanted to live in. And she knew that she would always blame herself if something happened to him. She didn't want to live with that guilt. So she had to put a stop to whatever this relationship was, before it could get worse.

Just thinking about what she had to do was enough to bring tears to Kate's eyes, and she knew she needed to finish this conversation soon. Otherwise, she would find herself breaking down right there in the hospital.

But subconsciously, she also must have realized she needed Jack to know about these feelings, because she was talking again.

"I just don't…" Kate wasn't sure how to continue. "How could you…" She saw Jack staring at her, his eyes glazed and his expression distant as he tried to control his shaking. She knew what he wanted, and her anger only grew as she saw what he'd become – nothing but a drug addict. This was not the man she knew or loved. It seemed as though that man had died last night.

Before that, even. The Jack she'd wanted to spend the rest of her life with had disappeared the day he'd walked out on her.

"Why?" she began to shout. "Why would you do…this?!" She gestured at him, and then glared around at the hospital room. "Why would you do this to yourself? To me?"

That was when she started to cry.

Jack sat there with his mouth hanging open, watching as Kate's anger drained away. He saw it be replaced by another emotion – misery.

Then her shoulders slumped and suddenly she burst into tears.

He was startled at her unexpected reaction, but he also felt his own heart breaking as she continued to sob. He was even more shocked, however, when Kate collapsed onto the bed and begged for him to hold her.

His body moved of its own accord, pulling her close and stroking her hair like he used to do.

Kate buried her face in Jack's shoulder and breathed in the smell that was distinctly his. Even though it was mixed with the scent of antiseptic and other hospital smells, it was still his. Safe and familiar, and for the first time in a long time there was no hint of alcohol on his breath.

She didn't know why she was doing this, pulling him closer when she needed to be pushing him away. She was acting on impulse and even though it felt nice to be near Jack again, everything was becoming harder the longer she stayed in his arms.

Then she felt a tremor go through him, and as he tried to hide it, she was reminded again of what they were both doing here.

She rolled over, facing away from Jack, and fiercely wiped the tears from her eyes. Then she took a deep breath and slid off the bed.

The look on his face made her falter, but she willed herself to continue.

"This has to stop."

Even though he stared at her blankly, Kate knew he understood.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I really am. But if I stay here and keep helping you whenever you're in trouble, you're never going to get better."

"But – "

Kate cut him off before he could continue. "It's not me you want anymore. I know that, it's okay."

"But – "

"And even if you do still want to be with me, it's not really _me_, it's the person you were on the Island. You want to hold on to that feeling of leadership and I'm the only connection you have left to it. You only want to make yourself feel better. But I'm not going to put up with that anymore."

She couldn't believe how much it hurt to say those things to Jack, but it needed to be done. Maybe if he hated her, it would make their parting easier.

"Kate!"

She took a step back as he rose from the bed. Jack swayed on his feet and put a hand out to brace himself against the wall. That was when he noticed the bandage on his arm.

"What the hell is this for?" he demanded.

"That is what happens when you try to kill yourself, wind up in a hospital, and then get out of bed without resting first, Jack," Kate said coolly.

He paused for a moment, frowning as the information sunk in and he lost his train of thought. He scratched at his arm as they stood there in awkward silence.

It wasn't until Kate turned to leave that Jack finally remembered what he wanted to say.

"But that's not important, Kate."

"You're right, Jack. It's not. And now I have to go."

He wasn't going to make this any easier for her, though.

"Wait, I'm not gonna let you walk away. What you said isn't true, you know. I do want to be with you, and not because of the Island. It has nothing to do with that. I want to be with you because I _love _you, Kate. Why can't you see that? Don't you understand? You're the reason I – "

He stopped before he could finish his sentence, but Kate had heard enough.

"You were going to kill yourself...because of _me_?" She was the one who'd asked for his reasoning, except now Kate wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Jack didn't answer, but his silence was enough.

"Oh Jack..." Kate said sadly. She hadn't realized how desperate he had gotten. And it was all her fault.

He must have noticed the change in her expression, because his eyes narrowed in anger.

"Don't look at me like that, Kate. Don't you pity me."

"Come on, Jack. Don't be that way." She didn't want their goodbye to end like this.

"Just go." He was wearing the stubborn look that she had become so familiar with. By now she knew better than to argue with him. This was what they both needed anyway.

"Fine," she retorted sharply. But she didn't want things to end this way. So she slowly walked towards Jack, kissed him softly on the cheek and turned back to the door.

"Goodbye, Jack."

Then she was gone.

Jack stared at the empty room for a long time, tears rolling down his cheeks, until finally he collapsed on the bed. Lying there, he closed his eyes, tried not to think, and wished he could make everything go away.

* * *

I'm probably going to be very busy for the next few weeks, but I'll try to update as soon as I can. Anyway, here's what's next:

Kate's resolve crumbles when someone she loves needs help.


	3. Missing You

I promise I am still working on Remembering, but I decided to finish up this chapter since I haven't updated it in a while. I hope to update Remembering sometime this weekend, but for now, I hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

**Chapter 3: Missing You**

Jack lay awake for a long time after Kate left. And when he finally did fall asleep, his dreams were filled with haunting images.

A brown wooden coffin, empty except for a pair of white tennis shoes was followed by a hole in the ground that was big enough for a body. Next came Sawyer's face as he jumped from the helicopter, and the look in Kate's eyes at that moment.

Those eyes had once regarded Jack in the same way, but he'd never forget the expression on her face after Sawyer was gone. He still saw the tears that silently fell down her cheeks, and he realized once again that he was Kate's second choice.

The memories he'd tried so hard to bury behind pills and booze were all coming back to him, one after another, and he couldn't make it stop. Even though Jack knew he was dreaming, he couldn't wake up. The only thing he could do was watch as each repressed memory flashed through his mind. Sun screaming at him to go back for Jin, the freighter exploding beneath him, Claire's mother saying he had a sister, turning to see Kate and Aaron, realizing he had a nephew.

Then Kate appeared before him once more, and he knew that whatever was coming next would not be a memory.

She was staring hard at him, and her eyes were cold.

"Why did you leave, Jack?"

If he'd been awake, he would have either demanded to know what she meant or walked away in anger. Instead, all he could do was wait for the scene to play out in his head.

"It's your fault that they're dead. You never should have left. But because you did, you killed them all. And now you've even left Aaron."

Jack knew what Kate wasn't willing to say out loud: he'd left her too.

"You say that I'm the one who needs to stop running, well maybe you should take your own advice," she continued.

He wanted to say something, to tell her it wasn't true, but he couldn't control this dream. So Jack stayed silent and watched Kate, fearful of what her next words would be.

Then he heard a child crying in the distance. He couldn't see who it was, but Kate turned toward the sound and an expression of sadness crossed her face.

"You hear that, Jack? Ever since you left, Aaron's cried himself to sleep every night. You broke his heart. And mine too. We're never going to be able to live normal lives because we'll never be able to get over you."

Kate paused, trying to hold back tears. If Jack had been awake, he'd have been crying as well.

"I have to go now. Aaron needs me – I'm the only person who cares about him now. You lost Claire and, thanks to your lie, we can't even tell his own grandmother about him. He did have you too, Jack. But you couldn't handle the pressure, so you ran away. You think you're a hero, you think you saved us. But you're not a hero. You can't even save yourself."

Jack's heart broke at her words, and it nearly killed him to realize that she was right.

Suddenly Kate was standing right beside him, whispering in his ear.

"I wish I'd never met you, Jack. Then I wouldn't have to miss you." She stared at him sadly for a moment before leaning in and kissing him softly.

Then she began to walk away from him and Jack knew that if he let her go, he would never see her again. He tried calling out to her, but she didn't hear him. As she faded into the distance, he heard Aaron wailing once more and then everything disappeared...

* * * * *

Jack's eyes snapped open and for a moment, he still felt the touch of Kate's lips on his. But when he rolled over and saw the empty room, any hope he'd been feeling quickly faded. The very memory of his dream weighed heavily on his heart.

Hearing footsteps in the hall, he glanced absently out the door. And froze when he saw a pair of white tennis shoes strolling past his doorway.

Almost afraid to look up, Jack forced himself to stare into the face of the person he knew was his father.

And even though he was expecting it, he was still shocked when Christian Shephard's face stared back at him.

"Dad?" he asked, shock and confusion filling his voice. How was it possible that he kept seeing his dead father? Was he so haunted by memories that they were starting to show up in his everyday life?

"Hello son." Christian's reply was short and filled with the cold tone that Jack had become used to after so many years. He looked at Jack with an expression of incredulity.

"What are you doing here?" Jack demanded.

"It's not what _I'm _doing here that matters. It's what _you _are doing here. What happened to you, Jack? You had so much promise, but now look where you are..." Christian trailed off, shaking his head in disappointment.

That was the final straw for Jack. He'd just listened to Kate ranting at him, he didn't need this from his father too.

He stood up in anger, stomping out into the hall towards Christian.

"You are dead," he said, emphasizing the last word. "You can't just waltz in here and start insulting me like you haven't been rotting on an Island somewhere for the past three years."

A look of surprise crossed his father's face briefly, but then it was gone, only to be replaced by cool indifference.

"Ah, Jack. I see your time on the Island hasn't changed you one bit. You're still just as stubborn as you were the day you ended my career as a surgeon." There was a trace of bitterness in his tone, but Jack didn't think his father really cared about the past anymore.

"What do you want, Dad?"

"I just don't want to see my only son destroying himself the way I did. You need to move past whatever this is and get on with your life. The Island needs you to be strong."

Jack couldn't help groaning. Of course this was about the Island! It was always something else. His dad didn't care about him, he just needed Jack for whatever \he had planned at the moment.

"You know what, Dad? I'm done with this, okay? You need to leave."

Christian stood there staring at him, but Jack turned away and walked back to his room.

"The dreams won't stop, you know."

Jack stopped at the doorway, refusing to turn around but at the same time needed to know what his father meant. He waited for the older man to continue, the same way he had when he was a kid, knowing this routine off by heart now.

"You're haunted by the people you left behind. That won't go away until you go back for them. We both know that, Jack. So stop pretending to be offended and start thinking about why you're really upset by what I'm telling you."

Jack didn't have the patience to argue, so he played along.

"And why is that?"

Christian looked at him meaningfully, but even though Jack felt his father's stares, he still didn't turn around.

"Because you know it's true, son."

When Jack finally did turn to glare at him, his father was gone and Jack was standing alone in an empty hallway once more.

"Dammit!" he swore angrily, smacking the wall. Then he went back into his room, emerging once more in his normal clothes instead of a hospital gown. For the first time, he was thankful that Kate had thought to leave him a change of clothes before she left.

As he exited his room, one of the hospital staff appeared to check on the patients after Jack's earlier shout. The man saw Jack and ran down the hall towards him.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" he demanded. Jack realized that this man was standing between him and the elevator, blocking the only means of escape.

"Shit," he muttered angrily. His reaction was almost instinctual after so many weeks of being chased on the Island. Except this time he needed to get closer to the enemy instead of farther away.

So he took off in a run, his speed building so he could dash to the elevator before the man could stop him.

Unfortunately his body wasn't well enough for physical exertion at the moment so he found himself tripping before he reached his destination.

His foot caught on an exposed piece of tile and he crashed to the floor, skidding along the linoleum for a short distance. The hospital attendant was getting closer and Jack knew he wouldn't be able to get back up in time. So he did the only other thing he could.

When the man reached him, he stuck out his legs and smiled in grim satisfaction as his pursuer lost his balance as well.

But he wouldn't stay down for long, Jack had learned this from experience, so he looked around desperately for something, anything to help him.

Grabbing on to a plastic food tray resting on a nearby cart, he raised it over the man's head and whacked him with a great deal of force.

"Sorry," Jack whispered before picking himself up and limping to the elevator.

He sighed as the doors dinged shut, thankful to get away from this place. The appearance of his father had really shaken him and he wanted to be far away, in case the old man tried to talk to him once more.

The ride down seemed to take forever and Jack spent most of the time trying to catch his breath. Glancing down at his hands he saw that they were shaking violently. But at least his fever was gone.

Suddenly he was overcome with a sense of unease. Why did he want to leave? What did he have to go back to now? Kate had ended their relationship for good, and all he had left was his drugs and his pity.

If he stepped out the front doors, Jack knew he would only go back to his pathetic, broken lifestyle.

Then another wave of craving coursed through him and he wondered how he would survive like this. Constantly craving something he shouldn't want. But what was the point of trying to change now? No one needed him anymore, at least, that was what he was trying to convince himself.

His father's words rang through his mind. _The dreams won't stop_. Jack shuddered in disgust.

Those dreams, nightmares really, had haunted him ever since he'd left the Island, although they weren't usually as bad as the one he'd just had.

Clenching his fists in determination, Jack realized that if the dreams weren't going to end on their own, he would have to make them go away.

By the time the elevator had reached the lobby, Jack had formed a plan in his mind. And pushing his shaking fists deep into his pants pockets, he walked out of the hospital and into the darkness of the night.

* * *

The sound of the phone ringing woke Kate from a deep sleep. She couldn't remember what her dream had been about now, but she felt vaguely disoriented.

"Yes?" she mumbled as she picked up the phone, not wanting the ringing to wake Aaron.

"Hello, Ms. Austen? This is Dr. Fernbrook. I'm Jack's assigned doctor for the time being."

Kate wondered why he was calling her at this hour.

"Mmm? What is it?" she asked groggily.

"I'm calling to find out if he is at your house right now," the doctor explained. Kate's eyes opened wide.

"No, he's not here. Why would he be? He's at the hospital. I saw him earlier today." She must have misunderstood his question. What would Jack be doing at her house, especially after their conversation earlier...

Her eyes began to tear up just thinking about it. Then she realized the man had been speaking.

"Pardon?"

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Ms. Austen, but Jack is gone."


	4. Out of Control

Wow, I can't believe how long it's been since I updated anything. Sorry about that but I'm back and writing now.

Thanks for all the reviews, I'm glad everyone is enjoying this fic so far. The song is _Look After You _by The Fray (yep, definitely going for a Fray theme).

* * *

**Chapter 4: Out of Control**

_There now, steady love.  
__So few come and don't go.  
__Will you want to be the one I always know?  
__When I'm losing my control,  
__The city spins around.  
__You're the only one who knows,  
__You slow it down._

_Oh, oh be my baby. Oh.  
__Oh, oh be my baby.  
__I'll look after you._

"What do you mean he's gone?" Kate asked as the words finally sunk in. "He's at the hospital, I talked to him there today."

The man on the other end of the phone was quiet for a moment. "One of our male orderlies saw him escaping."

"Then why didn't anyone stop him?" she demanded hysterically. Remembering Aaron was asleep in the next room, Kate forced herself to quiet down. There was no need to panic yet, Jack must be in the hospital somewhere. Where else would he go?

"Our staff member was, um, knocked unconscious before he was able to call for help."

Her heart sunk, knowing Jack would only hurt someone in times of desperation. What had happened to make him act so drastically? Now the familiar feeling of unease had settled in her stomach but she still wasn't about to give up hope.

"Have you searched the entire hospital?"

"One of the security tapes shows Mr. Shephard leaving the building. We are absolutely positive that he is not inside the premises," came the doctor's polite yet clinical reply. "I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour, but I was hoping you might be able to tell me anything about where he could have gone?"

Kate sucked in a deep breath, fighting to remain calm and keep her voice from breaking as she answered his question. "No, I don't know where he would be. He's not here. Have you already checked his house?" She knew without a doubt that Jack would not go back to his apartment, it was too full of bad memories. If she had to guess, there was one place he would be likely to visit, but she wasn't going to tell Dr. Fernbrook that.

The last thing she needed to do was ruin whatever medical career Jack had left by suggesting the hospital staff search the local bars. No, that was something she would do on her own. After all, Jack's escape was most likely her own fault. And despite nearly convincing herself that she wanted nothing more to do with him, Kate didn't seem to be able to let him go.

Not like this.

"Well thank you anyway. Sorry again for disturbing you and we'll let you know as soon as we find him," Dr. Fernbrook said, hanging up the phone. The line went dead though Kate continued to hold it like a lifeline. Through her fog she realized that the doctor had sounded so sure, so optimistic that Jack would be found.

They thought he was just another broken man now, a stupid junkie. They didn't know Jack like Kate did. She knew better. If he was able to escape without getting caught, surely he would be able to remain hidden for as long as he wanted.

Unbidden, her mind continued that train of thought, creating images of Jack stumbling through the back alleys of L.A., drunk or high. She had to find him before that happened.

Sighing, she got out of bed and changed out of her pajamas. After calling Veronica and asking if she would be able to look after Aaron for a little while, Kate sat in her son's room while she waited for the nanny.

She stroked Aaron's head and he smiled in his sleep when he felt her touch. Kate wished she could be so young and carefree, not that her own childhood had ever been so relaxing. Aaron had no idea how lucky he was.

"Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away," she sang to him softly, her quiet voice echoing loudly in the room. It reminded her of Claire, the young woman sitting in her tent and humming the same tune to the same boy.

That was part of the reason Kate continued to sing the song, it was one of the only ways she could feel close to all the people who'd been lost on the Island.

"Oh baby, what happened to us?" she asked, kissing her son's forehead. "Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket. Save it for a rainy day."

By the time Veronica knocked softly on the door, Kate had nearly convinced herself to go back to bed and let the professionals handle Jack. The only reason she drove off in her car, planning to spend the next few hours searching through various bars, was because she would never forgive herself if something happened to him.

Driving down the darkened streets, Kate tried to tell herself that she was doing this for her own benefit, not for Jack. She was done trying to save him, the tragic hero who'd fallen so far. She just wished she could believe her own lie.

* * *

Jack had no real destination. When he'd escaped there had been a plan, somewhere he'd wanted to go. Whatever it was, the idea slipped from his memory almost as soon as it came. The only real thought in his mind was that he didn't want to be in the hospital. Now he wasn't quite sure where he did want to be.

What he really wanted to do was find a bar and drink until he could no longer remember his own name. But he restrained; somehow it just didn't seem like the appropriate reaction anymore.

He kept moving, hoping that maybe he would find a reason not to drown his sorrows in alcohol like he had become so used to doing.

As Jack walked, occasionally he had to stop while a fierce shiver ran through his body. He ignored the painful cramps and shakes, wanting, no _needing_, a distraction from the flurry of activity inside his own head.

Seeing Christian at the hospital had been a shock that he wasn't quite ready to deal with. He tried to act as if it was normal to be conversing with his dead father but even in Jack's state, half-mad with withdrawal symptoms, he knew it was wrong.

If he had been somewhat coherent and clear-thinking, he would have tried to figure out the cause of his hallucination – for that's what Christian was. Jack wasn't really seeing his father's ghost, that much was obvious. But strangely enough, this time he had no interest in fixing the situation. Because seeing dead people was the least of his problems.

Once again his thoughts turned to Kate. The way her eyes welled up with pity when she realized why he wanted to end his life. He shouldn't have said anything, it would have been better to let her go on being mad at him. Instead now she felt sorry for him.

Jack hated having other people try to sympathize with his problems. They didn't understand, no one ever did. And he wished they wouldn't try to. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

Not that it mattered anyway, after the way their last meeting ended Jack doubted he would ever see Kate again. There was an empty hole in his heart caused by her absence and knowing it would only get worse as time went on was doing nothing to improve his mood.

Another fierce wave of craving ripped through him, stronger than before. It was becoming harder and harder to resist the hold those damn pills still had on him. The symptoms weren't going to disappear, that he was certain of. And if he wanted to put his senses at ease, the easiest access to drugs was through his hospital. He'd stolen packets enough times to know where to find them.

The problem was getting there. His gait was becoming more and more unsteady because of his never-ending shaking, making it very difficult to walk. It would be a challenge just to get halfway to St. Sebastian's, if he hadn't been lost as well.

Seeing the bright neon lights in front of him, Jack decided to settle for a nice, stiff drink instead.

"Might as well," he said, giving in to his own pathetic cravings. "No one cares what I do anymore."

He walked inside and sat down in the smoke filled room until finally he was nursing his drink, waiting for his blissful oblivion to begin.

The first sip burned as the alcohol went down, a wonderful distraction from the other physical and emotional pain haunting him. He gulped it quickly, already feeling the warm sensation starting in the pit of his stomach.

And when he walked out of the run-down building many drinks later, Jack was feeling better than he had in a long time. Part of that was due to the packet of Oxycodone he'd found in his pocket while attempting to pay the bill. He had no recollection of putting the package there, but he didn't stop to think about it. Instead he swallowed all of the pills inside, which wasn't much. It was enough to give him a slight out-of-body feeling though and now everything was bathed in a friendly glow.

The combination of drugs and alcohol was making Jack restless – usually it just caused him to be extremely drowsy – and he ended up wandering the streets. As unsteady as ever, he hardly noticed the weird looks people were giving him while he wobbled across the road, not caring if anyone decided to hit him.

Eventually he wound up down by the beach, it was an unconscious decision to be somewhere familiar. After the Island, he'd always felt relaxed hearing the sounds of the ocean. At least that's what Jack told himself during trips along the shore with Kate and Aaron, or when he came out here alone with a bottle of scotch and sometimes a few pills. The truth was he just wanted to feel connected to that sense of leadership he'd had on the Island and being somewhere similar was the best way to accomplish that.

Originally he hadn't wanted to be the leader, had tried numerous times to place the role on someone else, though now that it was gone Jack realized he missed the responsibility. Having no one but himself to look after was not good for him.

He stumbled across the sand, flopping down on the cool, soft ground. Listening to the waves break and swell made him ache for times long gone. Despite the haze that clouded his mind, Jack wished Kate was sitting beside him.

He missed her smile, warm yet still somewhat reserved, and her eyes, a deeper brown than he had ever known, but most of all he missed the personality and actions that were uniquely _Kate_. Everything she did reeled him in, drawing him closer even though he knew he was only bound to get hurt.

"But I guess she finally made her choice," he muttered to himself, his words slurring. "She'd rather run away than stick 'round 'n deal with me. Hell, not like I ever gave her a reason ta' wanna stay."

That thought brought back all his previous feelings of desperation and abandonment from the night before, only now they were dulled slightly by his intoxication.

_It's better this way_, he thought, stumbling down to the waterfront. Being clearheaded enough to watch himself sinking further and further into drug and alcohol abuse was not something Jack enjoyed. And he realized, once again, why he liked having his thoughts worn-out to the point of stupidity. It was the only way he could function.

Now some insistent part of him was demanding he go swimming; hopefully being in the water would give him a chance to relax. Not even bothering to untie his shoes, Jack stepped right into the ocean.

The cold temperature shocked him back into reality, making him wonder if this would do any good at all. And in that moment, Jack desperately wanted someone to stop him. Even though he was just taking a swim, he felt a trickle of fear run down his spine.

"No one's comin'," he said aloud, the words sounding final somehow. A tear slid down his cheek and he didn't bother to brush it away. What did it matter now?

He waded further into the water until he was submerged up to his waist. Then he began to swim out further, finally kicking off his shoes and watching as they sank beneath him. The sight made him laugh, his head spinning from the cool night air and the liquid courage of the alcohol.

"This 's good," he told himself, treading water over a particularly deep spot. Wanting to float on his back, Jack ungracefully attempted to roll over, nearly sinking as he did so. It was difficult to maintain his balance but he managed to drift along on the water.

Staring up at the sky made him realize just how amazing this was. Just _living_, being able to wake up and experience the world around him. Times like this, when he was so high that he could barely think coherently, were the times that he felt the most alive.

"Can't spend all day starin' at the scenery, though. Life's gotta take over at some point." And he had nothing left to live for, of this he was certain. Everything he'd ever cared about had drifted away the day he'd gotten off the Island.

"Goddam piece o' land," he mumbled almost incoherently. That Island had taken away all that had ever mattered to him. His friends, his sister, he even missed Locke's faith-filled rants now. And he'd gone and screwed things up with Kate too. She couldn't even stand being in the same room as him, he'd seen that during their last goodbye at the hospital.

Jack couldn't be a father to Aaron, he was most likely permanently suspended from ever working at St. Sebastian's again, he had no one to care about and no one cared about him. So what the hell was left?

"Nothin'. That's what."

He sighed and relaxed again, listening to the soft roar of the waves. The calming background noises helped him let go of his thoughts and simply float. He looked up at the sky again, squinting to catch a glimpse of the stars but they were hidden behind the smog-filled sky.

Still, raising his head to the heavens and praying that someone out there would hear him, Jack whispered softly.

"Forgive me."

As time went by, the waves grew more and more rough but he didn't swim back to the shore. This sense of peace he was experiencing was one he hadn't been able to find in a long time. And he wasn't about to give that away, until a huge wave rose up and pulled him under the water, deep below the surface.

Sinking further and further down, Jack struggled to find the energy to move. His peace and calm had been shattered, though he wasn't thinking straight and he couldn't remember how to move his limbs.

He kept his mouth closed, trying not to give in to his need for air. His eyes closed on their own – the effort it took to keep them open was too much – and he focused on the patters of light that danced across his eyelids.

His air supply was running out quickly though, but no matter how hard he tried to swim in the right direction, Jack couldn't move fast enough. Black spots began to fill his vision and just as he was about to fall into unconsciousness, his lungs protested forcefully, demanding air.

He gasped and tried to inhale, a natural reflex, but all he could taste was water. It was everywhere, everything. There was no escaping the crushing weight of the ocean as it spun him around and around.

And now that the end was so near, Jack understood that he didn't want to die. Not really. Not when there was so much to live for. He'd been foolish to once think he could give everything up in a moment. No, that wasn't him; it was in his very blood to go on until the end.

But now he may not have a choice.

Unable to tell which way was the surface, Jack swam in the direction he was already facing, hoping it was the right way. Each stroke took more and more energy, energy that he didn't have. In his desperate panic he continued to hold his mouth open, despite the torrent of water that tried to enter, drowning him from the inside out.

Finally it became too much and he gave up. For once in his life, Jack took his father's advice and let go. Of everything.

He choked, searching for air one last time without success. Just as he was about to pass into unconsciousness, he felt something grab a hold of his leg. Trying to muster up enough strength to shove the mysterious object away, Jack discovered that he couldn't even move his arms anymore.

The last thought he had before fading into darkness was of Kate. He saw her in his mind, tears streaming down her face as if she was sad that he was disappearing.

_I'm sorry_, he thought. And maybe someday she would hear him. But for now, all he could do was fight the threatening darkness as it closed in on him.

His desperate strength came too late, however, as he already fell deep into the lull of unconsciousness.

_Goodbye...Kate._

* * *

Racing to one bar after another, Kate spent the new few hours searching in vain for Jack's familiar form. She walked into all kinds of different clubs, some trendy and some hidden between 24-hour convenience stores and discount clothing shops. The worst places were the ones that reeked of cigarette and other types of smoke, the ones filled with demons she wasn't ready to face. The kind who stared at her with red-rimmed eyes, peeking above their amber filled glasses. Or worse, the men awaiting her at every bar stool and booth. Beckoning, calling, taunting, their eyes raked up and down her body.

Whenever she walked into one of those bars Kate forced herself to remain calm, to ignore the whistling and crude comments made behind her back, and most of all to not think of Wayne. These were the very places he used to spend hours going to, which was why each new pub she entered nearly made her shiver in fear and turn right around.

But she didn't give in to her own personal weaknesses. She had to find Jack. Reminding herself of what she was doing so late at night slinking through one alcohol filled room to another was the only reason she hadn't broken down in frightened sobs yet.

"I will find him and bring him back to that goddammed hospital," she coached herself, "if it's the last thing I ever do."

Taking a deep breath, Kate winced at the heavy odour of smoke clinging to her jacket – making a mental reminder to throw it away once she finally returned home – and pushed open the creaky wooden door to a particularly shabby excuse for a pub.

Again she was met with the scents she was fast becoming accustomed to. It was her own personal hell and it seemed never-ending.

She clenched her fists, walking briskly past the prone forms of men slumped against benches or stools. Sitting down on a chair that protested squeakily, Kate waited to catch the bartender's attention.

"What can I do for ya', miss?" the man beside her asked. His words would have sounded polite if they hadn't been accompanied by a sneer that chilled her to the bone.

"Have you seen a man come in – " She was cut off by the drunk's deep, wheezy laughter.

"Been plenty o' men 'round here, lady. Ya' gotta be more specific."

Kate grimaced and almost turned away from his unnerving stare. It made her stomach clench to think about Jack spending his time in a place like this, drowning his sorrows in a dirty glass resting on a crumb-covered table. But the bartender was ignoring her. Or pretending to be busy so he could listen to her conversation, Kate wasn't sure which. Either way, he would be no help.

So she turned back to the other man, the one who'd tried making conversation with her. "He had short brown hair, a jean jacket and a bandage on his arm."

There was that chuckle again, making the stranger sound unhinged and dangerous. "Well now, that do sound kinda familiar. I don't remember seein' no bandage but there sure was one mopey guy sittin' down at this very counter when I came in. Real fancy type, ya' could tell by the way he held himself. All them rich guys try ta' tone it down, but they can't hide who they really are."

He paused for a moment, distracted by a hacking cough that emitted from his throat. Kate cringed and leaned back in disgust.

"Donno where he went though," the man continued. "Took off after a few drinks."

Kate was about to thank him when he put a grimy hand on her shoulder. "Look honey, whatcha doin' with a guy like that? Now if you're lookin' for a good time, all ya' gotta do is say the word." He winked at her suggestively and she wrenched away from his surprisingly tight grasp.

"No thank you," she said coldly, still trying to be polite. He had just provided very helpful information, after all.

For a moment she thought he would put up a fight, but the man shrugged and leaned back against the counter. "Suit yerself, missy. I hope ya' find what you're lookin' for."

Kate shuddered, striding out of the bar before her own emotions got the best of her. She didn't slow down until she was safely inside her car with the doors locked. Only then did she allow the tears to stream down her cheeks, finally letting her fear show.

After a while she wiped her eyes, promising not to cry anymore. She still had to find Jack, but at least now she had something to go on. He'd been at the bar, of this she was certain, so he couldn't have gotten far. She would just drive around until she found him.

"It's not so bad," she said aloud and was ashamed to hear her voice crack. "Dammit Kate! There's nothing to be afraid of here." Despite her weak assurances to herself, she still tried something she hadn't done since the Island. She began to count.

"One...two...three...four...five."

Surprisingly, when she was done her fear had lessened slightly. It wasn't completely gone, just pushed away enough so she could function, but Kate was amazed Jack's technique still worked.

Of course, her eyes started welling up with unshed tears as soon as she thought about their first meeting on the Island.

"Okay, Jack. I'm going to find you. And then we are going to get this sorted out," she vowed, because it was becoming clear that she couldn't just cut herself out of his life forever. She needed him too much.

_Maybe all we really need to do is talk_, she hoped. The last few weeks of their relationship together had been filled with too many silences, too many things left unsaid. Maybe now was the time to lay all their cards out on the table and say what they were both really feeling.

"We will figure something out, Jack. I promise."

* * *

Driving up and down the many streets of L.A., Kate was about to give up when she caught a glimpse of the ocean and nearly smacked her forehead at her own stupidity. Where was the one place Jack could go that was as much like the Island as possible?

Pulling up to the beach, she stepped out of her car and winced when the wind slammed it shut behind her. Down by the water, the breeze she'd barely noticed farther inland had increased considerably. It flung her hair against her face, making it difficult to see.

Kate pushed the tangled strands away from her eyes, scanning the sand for signs of Jack's presence. She caught sight of footprints leading into the water and her heart began to beat fiercely in her chest.  
A flash of colour glinted among the waves and Kate sighed in relief until an image of Jack's cold, lifeless body popped into her mind.

"Jack!" she shouted at him but he didn't hear her among the roar of the waves. The ocean was getting rougher, tossing his body around in the water.

_Hang on, _she thought frantically, dashing into the cold ocean. She shivered as the freezing temperature went right through her skin. The waves crashed against her legs, showering her with drops of frigid water.

Gritting her teeth, Kate pushed herself forward until she was deep enough to fully dive in. Before the coldness got a chance to freeze her in place, she started swimming. Cutting a path through the rough white caps, each stroke brought her closer to Jack's limp body while the movements kept her warm.

Her vision was focused solely on Jack so she noticed right away when a massive wall of water collapsed on top of him. It swept his body underneath the surface, too deep for her to see. And he didn't come back up, coughing and shivering, like she expected him to.

Kate didn't stop to think. All she could to was act.

A fierce cry tore from her throat, even surprising herself. She took a deep breath, holding in as much air as possible.

Then she plunged her head beneath the water, propelling her body downwards.

Squinting to see amidst the churning waters, Kate finally caught a glimpse of what she was almost certain was a leg.

_Jack! _Her mind screamed loudly, urging her onwards. Once she was close enough, Kate reached out and grabbed one of his flailing limbs. Jack was sinking fast and she scrambled to pull him back to the surface.

At one point she accidentally pulled off his sock – wondering briefly why he wasn't wearing any shoes – and Jack nearly slid back to the depths of the sea before she could regain her hold on him.

Just as Kate thought her lungs were about to burst, her head broke above the water. She gasped heavily, panting from the exertion of towing Jack's unconscious form behind her.

_You're not done yet, _a voice in her head pointed out. Seeing that Jack was still not moving, Kate gathered her remaining strength and began the long swim back to shore.

Her entire body was screaming in agony when she finally felt sand beneath her feet. The last thing she did was drag Jack as far away from the waves as possible before she collapsed. Lying on the sand, Kate didn't want to move until she could breathe without panting.

But a strangled gasp behind her caused her to leap to her feet. She saw Jack hunched over, resting on his knees and coughing violently. She watched silently as he heaved up mouthfuls of salt water, shivering as he did so.

A spark of anger ignited in Kate's mind but she ignored it for the moment. There would be plenty of time to talk with Jack later. Right now she needed to take care of him. He'd always looked after her, no matter how horribly she treated him. And it was time she return the favour.

She sat down beside him, rubbing his back softly. Jack flinched at her touch and Kate saw how soaked he was.

_I probably don't look much better, _she realized. But she was worried about how blue his lips were and how still he had become. It was as if he'd frozen as soon as she laid a hand on his shoulder.

"He's going into shock," she said aloud, startling Jack out of his stupor.

"Kate?" he asked, wonder filling his voice. His teeth started to chatter and Kate wished she had some way to warm him up. Her own body wouldn't do much good since her clothing was wet too. She had a blanket in the back of her car that might do the trick, but she wasn't sure how to get him to move. There was no way she could carry him anymore, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Jack, we need to get going, okay?" she told him softly. He frowned and stared off into the distance.

"Am I dead?"

She glanced at him in shock. "What? How can you say that?"

His reply was enough to break her heart even more, if that had been possible. "You're here."

Kate sighed, trying to control the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. "Oh, Jack. Can we talk about this in the car? You look frozen and I don't want you to get hypothermia."

It was as if someone had flicked a switch inside him and suddenly Jack came to life. He burst out laughing, the sound startling Kate in the silence that had settled along the beach.

"I'm not gonna get hyp – hyperopia," he muttered to himself. For the first time that night Kate smelt the alcohol on his breath. In the past few minutes she'd completely forgotten that he'd came here from a bar and was probably too drunk to have any idea what had just happened.

"I thought hyperopia was far-sightedness," she replied, not sure why she was playing along.

He chuckled. "Hey, ya' turnin' inta' a doctor on me Katie?"

She clenched her fists as her childhood nickname rolled off his tongue. _Don't react, _she coached herself. _He has no idea what he's saying. It doesn't matter._

She couldn't lie to herself, though. The truth was it did matter, more than she wanted it to. If Jack hadn't started acting this way in the first place then maybe they would still have a relationship together. And, though Kate wasn't about to admit it, he was scaring her. Jack sounded too much like Wayne, something she wasn't prepared to handle. She'd never thought the two could be anything alike but clearly she was wrong.

"Dammit, Jack!" she shouted, causing him to flinch. "I learned that from you. Don't you remember how much you bragged about playing that prank on Sawyer? How could I ever forget?"

She smiled slightly, but Jack's reckless laughter made her shiver and wrap her arms around herself. He continued laughing, oblivious to the thoughts spinning around in her head.

"What were you doing out there?" Kate asked when the silence became too much for her. Jack frowned in confusion, not knowing what she meant. "In the water? Why would you go swimming when the ocean was so rough like that?"

"Oh, it wasn' wavey like that when I first swam out. It was nice," he replied, slurring slightly.

Kate raised an eyebrow, wondering what he wasn't telling her. _Oh god. Was he trying to kill himself again?_

She shuddered. "You can't keep doing this, Jack." Waiting until she knew she had his attention, Kate ran her fingers through her damp hair nervously.

"Doin' what?"

"Trying to off yourself every chance you get!" Kate practically screamed at him.

"I wasn' tryin' ta'... kill myself, Kate. I jus' wan'ed ta' go fer a swim," he defended weakly.

Her fingers itched to strike some sense into him but she wasn't the kind of woman who went around hitting people, so she balled her hands into fists at her side. She didn't want to have this conversation now, not when Jack was so out of it.

Standing up, Kate attempted to brush the sand off her clothes but it remained clinging to her body. She didn't even want to think about how messy her car would be after this.

Sighing, she bent down and hoisted Jack to his feet as well. He stumbled slightly, slamming into her and almost sending them both sprawling into the sand again. Somehow Kate managed to maintain her balance, supporting Jack all the way to the car.

He sank heavily into the backseat while she wrapped a blanket around him. She studied him for a moment, judging whether or not he was going to throw up any time soon.

Her mind was put at ease when he drifted off to sleep right in front of her eyes.

"Oh Jack," she breathed, sliding into the front seat. The entire drive home, Kate fought to keep her attention on the road and off of Jack. She'd always enjoyed watching him sleep, on the rare occasions that she was awake before him. He always looked so peaceful and she wondered all the time what he was dreaming about.

The times when Kate wasn't completely distracted by Jack's silent presence, she tried to figure out what she was going to do with him. She knew a call had to be made to Dr. Fernbrook so the hospital wouldn't keep worrying, but she had no idea what to do after that.

"Guess I'll let him sober up first, then we can talk."

Jack grunted softly from the backseat, as if agreeing with her. Kate spared one more glance back at him. Her heart melted as she stared at him, so relaxed while he was unconscious; the troubles of the world not pressing down on him and threatening to crush him beneath their weight.

"Maybe it's my turn to fix you, Jack," she whispered to herself. He deserved that much, after all, he'd been the one to fix her.

* * *

Up next: Jack needs some TLC. Kate's solution: hot chocolate. ;)

As soon as I can find the time I promise to update another fic. Which one would you like to read next?

a) Remembering

b) Unpredictable

c) Another chapter of You Found Me

d) The epilogue for Fun with Feathers

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked the chapter. :)


	5. Making Things Work

**Chapter 5: Making Things Work**

_Who would have thought it would end up like this?  
__Where everything we talked about is gone  
__And the only chance we have of moving on  
__Is trying to take it back before it all went wrong._

_Before the worst, before we mend,  
__Before our hearts decided it's time to love again.  
__Before too late, before too long,  
__Let's try to take it back before it all went wrong.  
~ _The Script, _Before the Worst_

By the time Kate had made it to her house, half-dragged a semi-conscious Jack through the front door, sent Veronica home, called the hospital saying she'd found their missing patient and told them he would be staying with her for a few days – not taking no for an answer – it was well past three in the morning.

Her eyelids were drooping, threatening to send her into dreamland at any second as she brought Jack upstairs to the bathroom. He slumped to the floor as soon as she let him go, nearly smacking his head on the side of the counter.

"Shit," she cursed, then clapped her hands over her mouth, waiting to see if she'd woken Aaron. In the silence that surrounded her, aside from Jack's laboured breathing, Kate let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in.

"Okay, Jack. You're going to have to cooperate with me here," she told him once she was certain her son was still sleeping soundly. Kate knew what she had to do now and she could feel her face growing beet red just thinking about it.

"We have to get you out of those wet clothes. Jack? Are you listening to me?" He didn't reply; she was on her own now. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

She started by pulling off his remaining sock, a reminder that he had no footwear on.

"Where are your shoes?" she wondered aloud, not expecting an answer. As soon as the sock was off, spilling sand all over the tiled floor, Kate started on his pants. Just as she had managed to unbutton them, Jack stirred restlessly.

"The beach," he muttered, either to himself or her, she didn't know. And she had no idea what he meant. Did Jack think they were still on the beach?

"My shoes," he explained quietly. "They're in the water."

"What? Why?" Was Jack even coherent enough to understand what he was saying?

"I donno, guess I jus'...didn'..." he trailed off, closing his eyes.

"Jack! Wake up, you can't go to sleep now," Kate pleaded with him, her efforts in vain. Jack was usually a light sleeper, tossing and turning half the night as problems ran over and over again in his mind. But when he was drunk like this he could fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Resigned to getting no further help, Kate continued to undress him. She tried to control the blush that was rising to her cheeks as she flung his soaked clothes on the floor, leaving him clad in nothing but his boxers, and slid him into the shower.

She turned the water on high, wincing as the onslaught of hot liquid stung her skin. Jack grumbled in protest when she aimed the showerhead in his direction. Kate let the water spray down on him until the entire bathroom was filled with steam. By that time her own clothes were even wetter than before and her hair was dripping down her back as she dried Jack off.

"What would you say if you were awake to see me doing this?" she asked. After waiting for a reply that never came, she decided he was still sound asleep and stripped out of her own clothes. Taking off her saturated, sand-covered shirt left Kate feeling clean and warm – especially after the shower she'd just taken.

She slipped on a bathrobe, towel-dried her hair and was rummaging through her drawers as Jack stumbled out of the bathroom. A trail of steam followed behind him, adding to his already-flushed face.

"What the hell, Kate?" he demanded, sounding more coherent than before. She paused her frantic shuffling through the drawer, searching for any clothes Jack had left behind when he'd moved out.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, refusing to match his furious tone.

"Why did you bring me here?"

She threw down the shirt she'd been holding, annoyance making her lose her temper.

"Why did I bring you here? Dammit, Jack! Maybe because you almost drowned a few minutes ago? Or because you were wandering the streets of L.A. stoned out of your mind? You can't keep doing this to yourself! I am _sick _of coming to your rescue every damn time you act like this!"

The growing frustration she'd felt during the evening was coming out all at once. Despite seeing how Jack's already pale face grew even lighter at her words, she continued shouting, needing to get the words off her chest.

"Whatever you're going through, you either need to figure out how to handle it or get some help. Because what you're doing right now, _this_, it's not healthy! And I don't know how to deal with you when you're like this!"

She began searching through the dresser again, trying to hide her tears. She heard Jack shuffle awkwardly to her side and suddenly he was whispering in her ear.

"I never asked for you to help me." His breath still reeked of alcohol and it made Kate sick but she didn't back away. Jack sounded oddly sober, a feeling she wanted him to hold on to.

"Yes, you did when you ran away from the hospital," she told him, pleased that her voice came out steady. In reality, her heart was racing – partly due to Jack's close proximity – and the jumbled mess of thoughts inside her brain spun around and around.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he said sadly as a shiver rocked his body. For the first time Jack seemed to notice his profound lack of clothing. "Uh – " he began to ask.

Kate silently handed him an extra pair of boxers, jeans and a neatly folded shirt, thankful that he'd never properly moved all his belongings back to his apartment.

"I'm going to get us something to drink. Come downstairs when you're dressed," Kate instructed him and without another word she was gone.

Jack was left standing in the room he had once shared with her, a room filled with too many memories. He quickly slid on the clothes she'd given him, throwing his wet boxers into the bathtub and sinking heavily onto the bed. Putting his head in his hands, he tried to push down the many emotions threatening to surface.

Though his memory was fuzzy about the events of the past few hours, he was very aware that the incredible high he'd been feeling was gone. All that remained was a pounding headache and the sense that he'd screwed up again. Jack had no idea what he'd done this time, but judging from Kate's reaction it was something incredibly stupid.

It made him want to throw up, a feeling he knew would come later anyway. _Dammit, Kate's right, I have to stop doing this to myself._

In no shape to be around her, Jack sighed and flopped against the bed. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the silver picture frame resting on the night stand. Staring at the photograph inside, Jack's heart thudded when her recognized it.

He'd snapped the photo of Kate and Aaron one day at the park a few months ago. He remembered the day she'd framed it and set it there. "So that when I see it each morning I can think of you and Aaron," she'd told him. Jack was surprised she hadn't packed it away when he'd moved out.

He noticed the picture on the other dresser – one Sayid and Nadia had taken of them at Hurley's birthday party – was gone. It didn't surprise him that Kate no longer wanted to look at it, why would she when it brought back so many memories? But his eyes still swam with tears as Jack realized Kate really had been trying to cut him out of her life.

He wished he could be angry with her, could scream that she had no right to do this. Instead all he felt was sorrow that things had gotten so bad between them.

"It's my fault." Saying the words aloud was harder than he'd thought it would be. "I'm the one who's gotta fix this." He just wasn't sure how.

Blinking back tears, he pushed himself up from the bed and went downstairs to find Kate. _I'll figure this out later, _he thought to himself, even though his heart was aching.

He walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the sight of Kate making hot chocolate at the counter. His stomach dropped, the thought of drinking anything right now was not appealing. Though he wouldn't mind another glass of scotch.

Kate clearly had other ideas however, as she handed him a steaming cup of the brown liquid. Her no-nonsense expression made Jack take a tentative sip.

He grimaced as it burned his tongue, the look on his face making Kate smirk. Jack frowned and set the mug down on the table.

"Drink some more," Kate coaxed him. "It'll warm you up and help clear your head."

"I'm fine," he said wryly and she noticed him eying the cup with a guarded expression.

"Everyone loves hot chocolate, Jack. What would you rather have instead?" By the guilty look on his face it didn't take much guesswork to figure out exactly what he wanted. "Oh Jack," she sighed.

He frowned at the look of pity she gave him. "I wasn't going to say anything. You just assumed you know what's going on in my head," he snapped at her.

Kate tried not to let his reaction bother her. She knew he wasn't quite himself yet, the affects of the alcohol were still lingering in his system.

She watched him sit down at the table, unsteady on his feet. The sight filled her with sadness. How had he fallen so far? How could she have let that happen to him?

"It doesn't have to be like this, you know," she mumbled softly, knowing he would hear her.

He did, raising his head to look at her sorrowfully. "What does it matter now?" he asked, his defeat stunning her into silence.

With nothing else to do, Jack began sipping his hot chocolate. He kept glancing out the window and sighing morosely, wishing he could be anywhere else but here.

Kate bit her lip nervously until she tasted blood, trying to distract herself from the uncomfortable stillness. Needing something to do with her hands, she poured herself a cup of hot chocolate and sat down across from Jack.

She stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Finally he tilted his face towards her, meeting her eyes. "I should go," he said calmly, standing up.

Kate found herself shaking her head, though she knew it would be best if she just let him leave. The last thing she wanted was for Aaron to wake up in the morning and see Jack here. It would just get his hopes up.

But as good as that sounded in theory, in reality Kate wasn't willing to give up on Jack that easily. Not this time.

"Why don't you just stay for tonight, okay?" she asked him, reasoning with herself that he could be gone before her son awakened.

He chuckled to himself. "And I thought I was bad at letting things go. Just forget about me, Kate. I know that's what you've been trying to do."

His words stung, almost enough for her to push him out the door herself, but she restrained herself. He still wasn't quite himself, after all.

"You can sleep on the couch. I don't mind," she said softly.

"Yes you do, I can see it on your face. You think I'm just another charity case, someone who's got no hope of ever being fixed. You only want me around because I'm a distraction from your own screwed up life."

Kate recoiled as if he had slapped her. She forced herself to take deep breaths, not allowing herself to speak until she could maintain some degree of calm. He was trying to anger her, she knew that. He wanted her to leave him alone, but his tactic was one she'd used many times as well and she tried not to let what he'd said bother her.

"That's not going to work on me, Jack. You can't push me away like that." Her tone was ice cold, her words clipped despite her efforts to hide her irritation.

"Please, stay here tonight," she added, hating that she had to resort to begging. But he must have noticed something sincere in her expression because she saw barely concealed hope flash through his eyes.

"Why?"

She reached across the table and wrapped her hands around his. She felt him stiffen but she didn't let go and after a moment he sighed, enjoying the human contact though he was afraid to admit it.

"Because I care about you, Jack. I was wrong to try and cut you out of my life before. You have a lot to deal with right now and I shouldn't be making it any harder for you."

That was a stretch, they both knew it. The only problems he had to deal with were his own, caused by no actions other than his. Kate thought it best to leave that part out.

"I want to help you, I really do, but I can't do anything if you won't let me in. We need to talk about what's going on, okay? Then maybe we can get this sorted out. For right now though, you look exhausted."

He nodded, already fighting to keep his eyes open. The after-effects of the alcohol and nearly drowning combined with a warm shower and drink had pushed him past the brink of exertion.

As Kate led him to the couch and got him settled down, she noticed that he looked more at peace than she had seen him in a long while. Tomorrow would be difficult, she was fully aware of that and was certain Jack wouldn't open up easily, but tonight she was glad he could get some rest.

Heading upstairs to get some spare blankets from the cupboard, she turned around and saw that he had already fallen asleep. Her heart swelled at the sight of him snoring calmly, limbs sprawled across her plush couch.

And she couldn't help thinking, just for a second, that maybe things would turn out alright after all. Maybe all Jack needed was something to hope for. And maybe that was something she could give him.


	6. A Hand to Hold

Thanks for all the reviews. This chapter is for **MorningGlory2** and** K. Palafox**, who requested an update. Sorry it took me so long.

* * *

**Chapter 6: A Hand to Hold**

_Here's the day you hoped would never come  
Don't feed me violins  
__Just run with me through rows of speeding cars  
The papercuts, the cheating lovers  
The coffee's never strong enough  
I know you think it's more than just bad luck_

_There, there baby  
It's just textbook stuff  
It's in the ABC of growing up  
Now, now darling  
Oh don't lose your head  
'Cause none of us were angels  
And you know I love you, yeah  
_~Imogen Heap, _Speeding Cars_

Kate awoke with a start. Rolling over to glared at the clock – she'd only been asleep for an hour – she tried to shake off the memory of her latest nightmare about Claire; one she had all too often these days. Unable to go back to sleep she lay sprawled out in bed, eyeing the still-dark sky beyond a lacy curtain.

A strange sound made her scramble to a sitting position in a matter of seconds. She stayed perfectly still, straining to hear where the noise was coming from. Concentrating intensely, she recognized it to be some sort of mumbling that was taking place downstairs.

It was moments like this that made her wish she kept a baseball bat nearby. She contemplated the thought as she crept down the stairs, the sight when she reached the bottom making her freeze in place.

Jack was thrashing violently on the couch, the blankets a tangled mess at his feet and every inch of his body covered in sweat.

Slowly Kate's panicked stance relaxed into one of worry. She debated going back to bed, knowing Jack wouldn't want her to see him like this. Her foot was on the upper stair when he spoke her name so clearly that she whirled around, a guilty expression creeping onto her face.

Staring at him intently, she watched his breathing accelerate so fast he couldn't possibly be awake.

"Don't go," he mumbled, his voice hoarse as though from screaming. Kate's heart broke at the pain evident in his words. She began walking forward without consciously giving her feet the decision to move. It hardly surprised her when she sat on the couch beside him, lifting his head into her lap and stroking his short hair lightly.

He sighed in contentment and she frowned as the movement irritated the tangled beard on his face. In the short time she'd seen him today, she hadn't really paid attention to the scruffy hair growing around his mouth; for the first time she realized how much it irritated her. She'd have to do something about that when he woke up. But for now...

Kate trailed her fingers across his forehead as he shivered, worried about how warm he felt. Maybe he had a fever.

_Or maybe he's just going through withdrawal_. She forced herself to remember the reason Jack was here in the first place. That no matter how sorry she felt for him, this was his fault to begin with.

It was hard to be angry at him when he looked so broken.

"Jack," she sighed, knowing they really needed to sit down and have that chat; to have all their issues laid out in the open would make addressing them so much easier.

He stirred at the sound of her voice, his eyes flickering open, staring at her in confusion until recognition set it. Then he was whipping his head away from her, sliding as far away as possible on the small couch. Kate couldn't help flinching at his obvious discomfort.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered in a voice still rough from sleep.

"I live here," she replied, watching the wave of hurt cross his face as he realized, once again, that this was no longer his home. She quickly backpedaled, not wanting to make things any more awkward than they already were.

"I heard a noise coming from downstairs and when I went to check, I saw you..." She trailed off, not about to tell him of the state she'd seen him in. "What were you dreaming about?" she questioned, her attempt to change the subject falling flat when Jack's face immediately closed off. "You can talk to me, you know." She wished it was true, but in her heart she knew it wasn't.

"No I can't," Jack said, agreeing with her unspoken thoughts. "Not anymore."

At his words Kate was overcome with regret; if only she and Jack could go back to the way they used to be. "Why don't you talk to me now?" she suggested. "It doesn't matter what you say, I won't judge you. I just want to talk."

If she hadn't been watching him carefully, she wouldn't have noticed the wistfulness that filled his eyes before he blinked it away.

"What can I say, Kate?" he asked, not sure where she was going with this.

"Why don't you tell me what happened in your dream? You said my name..." she pressed, her curiosity not as strong as her sudden need to get Jack to open up to her.

Maybe he was still half-asleep, or maybe he still had a few lingering traces of alcohol in his system, she didn't know, but for some reason he actually decided to answer her.

"You told me that everyone on the Island was dead because of me. That I killed them because I left," he admitted. Kate started, trying to cover up her surprise at Jack's mention of the Island – it had become sort of a forbidden topic between them while they were together, one of the main reasons their relationship had fallen apart in the first place; too many things were left unsaid – but she wasn't quick enough.

Jack's eyes narrowed at her subtle reaction, guilt creeping up in his chest, but he kept going. Now that he was finally talking, he needed to continue, to get all the feelings he'd had in the past few months off his chest.

"It was more like a bunch of memories rather than a dream, or a nightmare actually. I kept seeing my father's coffin, and Sawyer jumping from the helicopter, and Claire's mom at the funeral. And every scene I had to watch over and over and _over _again, knowing it was all my fault.

"Then you said that I broke yours and A – Aaron's hearts" – he stumbled a bit around the little boy's name, a fierce wave of regret rushing over him – "when I left. I know it's true Kate. I wish I could change that. Every damn day I look back on the way things turned out and wish, _pray_ to a God I'm not even sure I believe in, that things could be different."

"Jack..."

"And you know what the worst part is?" he continued, his words running together in his haste to say them. Kate shivered at the half-crazed glint in his eyes. "It's what you say to me every goddam time right before I wake up. You always tell me that – "

"I wish I hadn't met you; then I'd never have to miss you," Kate finished for him, stopping him mid-sentence, his mouth dropping open.

"Where did you hear that?" he whispered, the angry glow of his eyes fading until there was nothing left but sadness. He slumped back against the couch, his head starting to spin as the entire conversation began to sink in.

"It's what I think when I wake up in the morning and you're not lying there beside me, or when I'm in the shower getting ready for work. I whisper it to myself every night when I'm reading Aaron a bedtime story and he asks where you are. It's the only thing I can tell myself that gets me through the day, Jack.

"And you're right. You did break my heart by leaving. And Aaron's too. He hasn't stopped asking about you since the day you walked out that door, away from the family I thought we were finally becoming. It is your fault, Jack. You could have handled the situation a _lot _better – we could have talked things out instead of ending them the way they did. You didn't trust me, I still don't think you do, and how could we ever be together if our relationship was built on nothing more than lies and keeping secrets?"

She paused, taking a deep breath. This was not the way she'd wanted their talk to go; she'd hoped to do this without yelling at him, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted Jack to know exactly how she felt, to understand the pain he caused her. And if that was the only way to get those feelings across, then so be it.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't want this to turn into a screaming match," she apologized, lowering her voice. "And I'll admit that I could have tried harder to work things out then. I shouldn't have said those things to you – Aaron is as much your son now as he is mine. And you're his blood relative; I have no right to keep him from you..." She trailed off, the horror of losing the child she had come to know and love as her own reminding her of the dreams about Claire. Was she destined to lose the only thing she had left? Was fate really that cruel?

Jack must have seen the tortured look in her eyes because he slowly reached for her hand, squeezing it tentatively. She didn't shy away from the contact.

"I don't want to take Aaron from you, Kate. That's the last thing I'd ever want to do. You're a much better parent to him than I could ever be, and I think that's part of why things ended so badly between us. I wasn't ready to be a father and I couldn't handle the responsibility.

"I want to change that, I will change that for you, and for Aaron. I need to start working my own issues out so I won't be such a burden anymore. I'm tired of you feeling sorry for me and I'll do my best to change that. If you'll give me the chance."

Kate didn't answer, the lump forming in her throat made it impossible to speak. She couldn't believe what she was hearing; Jack actually wanted to get help, he wanted them to be a family again.

Almost as soon as the thought began forming in her mind, she pushed it away, sighing in resignation at the hope already beginning to blossom in her chest. She'd heard it all before. _I want to change, I'll try to be better. _It just wasn't enough this time. And she wasn't about to get her hopes up just to watch herself be let down again.

She turned away, blinking back the tears. But this time they weren't tears of joy, they were tears of sorrow. Would she and Jack ever be able to go back to the way they used to be?

_If you just give him a second chance..._ A voice in the back of her head kept nagging her. She rejected the idea, forcing it out of her mind. She'd already given Jack a second chance. And a third.. And each time he did nothing but disappoint her again and again.

"Kate," he said, drawing her attention away from her morbid thoughts. "I know you don't believe me. And I don't blame you, after everything I've done. But I don't want to be the junkie anymore, the guy who lives only for his next fix. I'm tired of screwing up all the time and I want to be different. I honestly want to change, I just don't know if I can."

The raw truth in his voice made her shudder slightly and she wondered if this time he really would be able to overcome whatever he was going through.

Nothing was going to happen this early in the morning, however. Not if either of them didn't get any sleep.

"Why don't you go back to sleep for a bit, okay Jack? We can talk some more in the morning, but you look like you need a bit more rest," she suggested, hoping he understood the deeper meaning of her words; that she would still be here when he woke up later. Even thought it was her house, Kate knew Jack was constantly worrying about her running out on him. This time she wasn't planning on going away, however, and she wanted him to know that.

He frowned, thinking of what his father had said earlier at the hospital. He didn't quite remember those few hours very well – everything was a bit fuzzy, but he distinctly remembered Christian making an appearance (he wasn't even going to _try_ and wrap his brain around how his dead father had managed to talk to him – at least, not for the moment) and saying something along the lines of: _the dreams won't stop_. The last thing he wanted was to shut his eyes again and give in to what was hiding just below the surface of his subconscious.

Kate watched the defiance fill Jack's eyes, knowing he would fight her to last the second, though unsure why he was so determined not to fall back asleep. She saw his hands clenched into fists at his side, either trying to control his anger or to stop himself from shaking.

Then all at once a panicked expression formed on his face and he was bolting from the couch, headed straight for the bathroom across the hall. She winced, hearing him emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Getting up and walking into the kitchen, she turned on the coffee maker; this was going to be a long night.

* * *

When she returned to the living room, Jack was once again sitting on the couch, the blanket bundled around him as he no longer fought to hide his shivering. He barely glanced up as Kate walked over to him, humiliation making him flush.

She sat down without comment and silently handed him a few pills, which made Jack's heart beat faster until he realized they were just Tylenol. He frowned inwardly at his body's automatic reaction to the possibility of a fix.

"You must feel like crap, huh?" Kate asked, raising an eyebrow as he continued to stare at the objects in his hand before setting them aside.

"The last thing I need is to become dependent on even more pills," he said in response to her questioning glance.

Kate nodded grudgingly, respecting his decision but, despite herself, hating to see him suffer.

"Do you want a glass of water or something?" she asked, already knowing what the answer would be, used to his stubbornness.

Jack shook his head, not about to let Kate make this any easier for him. He deserved every moment of pain this brought him, pain he was certain would only get worse. His head was already pounding, spinning in a very uncomfortable way, and his stomach was rolling uneasily, but he said nothing, staring straight ahead.

He started in surprise when Kate gently took his hand, the same way he had earlier. The look in her eyes wasn't one of pity this time, nor one of anger, but rather one of camaraderie; it was her way of telling him she would stay by his side.

Displaying her own fit of stubbornness Jack accepted that Kate wasn't going anywhere tonight. He found himself taking comfort in her presence, instead of feeling awkward about it, the way he once would have. She was the only thing that kept him going through the rough night, staying by his side and rubbing soothing circles around his back, chasing away the nightmares.

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When he awoke the next morning from a dreamless sleep, having given in to the exhaustion sometime after the first few rays of sun began peeking through the window, the first thing that registered in his brain was that he was alone on the couch. The second was the smell of pancakes wafting in from another room, the kitchen he assumed.

For a moment he forgot where he really was and panicked, wondering who was cooking in his house, until a few stray memories from the night before wound their way into his mind. Amidst all the nausea, shivering and sweating, the one thing that stood out from his remembered feelings of discomfort was Kate.

As soon as Jack thought of her, he forced his eyes to open, wondering where she had gotten to. He couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face when he noticed her standing in the doorway, holding a plate of pancakes in her hand.

"I wasn't sure if you were hungry or not, but I made enough extras in case y – " Before she could finish her sentence she was cut off by a voice from the other room, a voice that made Jack's heart sink because it was one he knew all too well.

"Is Uncle Jack awake now?" Aaron asked, peering around the corner to see for himself. Delighted to see the older man staring groggily back at him he launched himself into the room, landing roughly on Jack, who wheezed upon his impact.

"Morning Jack," he stated happily, bouncing up and down on Jack's legs.

"Hey buddy," Jack managed to gasp out. "What're you doin' here?"

Aaron giggled, shaking his head. "That's a silly question. I live here. How 'bout you?" he responded, not noticing Jack's head turn towards Kate, the look in his eyes letting her know exactly what he was thinking.

_Why is Aaron here?_

"Last night was pretty short notice," she whispered, struggling to find her voice.

"Are you gonna stay here again, Uncle Jack?" Aaron asked, breaking the silence. Jack gazed at Kate helplessly but she had no response either. "I missed you." He wrapped his arms around Jack's waist, clinging himself to the older man.

When Jack didn't answer, Aaron kept up a steady stream of comments, Jack's beard providing an easy distraction.

"How come your chin is all hairy?" the young child asked innocently, unaware of the tension that filled the room, though Jack managed to crack a small smile for him.

Kate stood stonily in the doorway; she was on the verge of tears at the scene in front of her and knew Jack was as well. She'd thought last night would have at least made some difference between the two of them, but nothing had really changed. If anything his presence had only made things worse. She wondered how hard it would be on Aaron when Jack left this time.

_Unless I can stop him from leaving, _she debated with herself, unsure if that was even possible.

Clearly she and Jack had a lot more to work through before they could even think about going back to the way things were, she realized as she watched him playfully tickle Aaron until the little boy had tears running down his cheeks.

She smiled sadly, wondering how this relationship even had a chance of turning out okay.


	7. Finding a Way Back

Thank you so much everyone for your absolutely beautiful reviews. You are truly amazing and your words made me want to update so much faster. :)

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**Chapter 7:** **Finding a Way Back**

_Waking up, lost in a fog  
__You were the light that led me home  
__Overcome, thought I was strong  
__Thought I could make it on my own  
__I fooled myself, but believe me now..._

_...'Cause I don't wanna let you go  
__I'd be lost without you, I think you should know  
__I'm here. And I don't wanna let you go  
_~ Ross Copperman, _I Don't Wanna Let You Go_

The sunlight streaming in through the back door made him wince as it stabbed into his eyelids. He moaned softly and rested his head in his hands, hunching over in the chair.

"You look terrible," Kate observed, walking into the kitchen. "You sure you don't want some Tylenol?"

"How's Veronica doing?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"She wondered why I wanted her to babysit Aaron so early, but thankfully she didn't ask a lot of questions." She sat down across from him, twirling her coffee mug slowly.

"What'd he say?"

"He's a little confused, but not too worried. He's just happy that you're back," she told him truthfully, hating the way she could see her words cutting into his heart.

"What are we going to do?"

She sighed, hoping they'd be able to have a few minutes of normal conversation before getting to the more serious topics. Clearly Jack had other ideas.

"I don't know, but Aaron couldn't handle it if you left. He had to live without you once and I doubt he could do it again." She fell silent, realizing she was no longer talking about her son and wondering if Jack heard the double meaning in her words.

He seemed to be more focused on the shivers running along his arm than her words, however. Kate couldn't help the sliver of irritation that ran up her spine.

"Do you want to have a shower before we talk?" she asked bluntly, the tone of her voice catching Jack's attention.

"I'm okay, thanks," he said apologetically, hating how weak he felt. He decided to change the subject. "But I wouldn't mind a few of those pancakes."

Kate knew he was just trying to make her feel better, but for some reason the thought of Jack wanting to eat something she'd made caused her heart to beat faster. "You don't have to. I'm sure you're not really up to eating anything right now."

"Don't worry Kate. I'm actually kind of hungry, and I feel fine. Though that might change after I taste your cooking," he added, smirking.

Kate smacked his arm lightly, falling easily back into what had once been their normal routine. "I am not that bad of a cook."

"Oh sure. Setting the kitchen on fire is obviously a mark of extreme skill."

"One time," she squealed. "And that was because you kept distracting me." She scooted out of her chair doubtfully when Jack began walking towards her. "No," she told him fiercely. "You stay away from me." She could hear in her own ears the lack of conviction her words held.

"You mean like _this_?" he asked, grabbing her and tickling her viciously. Her gasps of laughter filled the kitchen as she struggled to get free, her efforts sending them both to their knees.

"St – stop it!" she screamed. "You k – know I'm ticklish there. P – please," she begged, but Jack was relentless. Only when she was completely out of breath and clutching her sides desperately did he stop, although he was still grinning hugely.

"Can you blame me for not paying attention to the oven?" she asked sarcastically.

"It's not my fault you have a short attention span..." Jack trailed off as he finally registered their position on the floor. Kate had somehow managed to situate herself in his lap as they leaned against the cupboards; they were both much to comfortable. Seeming to realize this at the same time Jack did, Kate carefully slid herself away from him, her back pressing against the counter on the other side as she tried furiously to control her blush.

"Um...you still want those pancakes?" she asked, subdued.

"I'll get them," Jack offered, standing up. "Listen, why don't you lie down for a bit while I eat? You must be exhausted, I'm sure you didn't get any sleep last night. And I'm sorry about that."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it. I can't remember the last time I got a decent night's sleep," she admitted. Jack eyed her doubtfully and she felt she had to elaborate. After all, he'd shared enough with her last night for her to reciprocate those actions now and, after their scene in the kitchen, she was feeling within her the stirrings of something she hadn't felt in much too long: pure, unbridled lust.

She swallowed thickly, forcing down those emotions as she struggled to maintain her self-control; it would do no good to give in to those cravings now. Needing a distraction, she began babbling out an explanation about her severe lack of sleep.

"I keep having these dreams...nightmares really...about, well, about Claire." She paused long enough to see the hurt fill Jack's eyes, as she knew they would at the mention of his half-sister. He felt just as guilty, if not more so, about leaving her on the Island, but there was nothing either of them could do now. As far as she knew, neither of them was willing to go back there, not for anything.

"And each time she tells me that I never should have taken Aaron away from her, that she will come back for him. It hurts so much to have her mad at me, even though I know it's just a dream. I can't bear the thought of her being left alone on that Island for all this time, thinking we all abandoned her. But I can't bring myself to go back either.

"So every day I wake up hating myself for being so selfish, but at the same time knowing I would never leave Aaron alone after all he's been through. I feel like I'm having to decide between two impossible choices, and I have no idea if I'm making the right one."

By now her words were so strung together that she was sure Jack wouldn't understand a thing. She shut her mouth quickly, turning away as she tried to hide her tears, not wanting to seem so weak in front of him.

"Kate," he whispered, in an agonized voice. Sitting back down beside her, he pulled her to his chest, engulfing her in his musty, familiar scent. She couldn't help as the tears spilled faster down her cheeks, his close contact bring back so many memories; making her feel more secure than she had in a long time.

"And I'm so scared that someone is going to find out. That they'll know we've been lying all this time and that they'll try to take Aaron away. I don't know what I'll do without him. He's the only thing that keeps me sane," she whimpered.

He wrapped his strong arms around her gently, as if he never wanted to let her go, and she let herself believe, just for a moment, that he did still love her and want to spend the rest of his life with her. That was before his next words sunk in.

"I _hate _that you had to go through this on your own. I will never forgive myself for what I did to you, and for what I didn't do for you. But it's too late now. As much as I want to change, what good will it really do? I'm a drug addict, Kate, and there's no way around that. I am seeing my _dead father_ for god's sake and I was just checked into a hospital because I tried to kill myself.

"My life working as a doctor is over – if St. Sebastian's hasn't already heard about my "accident" then they will soon. And they'll know exactly what is going on. I'm already on probation for stealing drugs from the pharmacy there. How do you think everyone will react when they find out I'm suicidal too? I'll be fired for sure."

Kate shifted guiltily against him and he glanced down absently. "What? Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked.

"Jack," she sighed. "You were brought to St. Sebastian's hospital that night. It was the closest one to your apartment and you needed to get there as quickly as possible," she added after seeing his expression. "But that means – "

"I definitely won't have a job after they found out why I was admitted," he finished, his mood darkening. "And that won't take very long. In fact, I'm surprised no one has come here to look for me already, considering how I ran out of there last night..."

Kate decided it best not to mention the hospital's phone call last night. "I'm sorry, Jack. I was just so worried about you..."

He waved off her apology. "It's not your fault. You were just trying to save my life, Kate. How could I ever be mad at you for that, especially when I put in that situation to begin with? I just don't see how whatever semblance of a relationship we have is ever going to work out when I have so many other issues to work through."

"But you don't have to do it alone," Kate objected. "If I want you back in my life, and I do, then I need to help you with all that. I don't know what to do about your job, or your father, but I can support you with your drug problems. I can be there for you through withdrawal and rehab. And I will make sure that you _never _hurt yourself again."

Jack tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, wanting to let Kate know just how much her words meant. "I promise that I won't let anything happen to you or Aaron. I will do everything I can to keep you both safe. And I'll never leave you again," he told her sincerely. "But I don't know how this will work out; I honestly can't see a simple solution here..."

"We'll solve it together," Kate added, her voice muffled against his shirt. She would never admit it, but her heart was soaring at how tightly he was holding her. "I don't want you to go. No matter what. I was wrong before, to try and keep you away. I tried cutting you out of my life completely – that didn't work. Us trying to be just friends isn't going to work either. Not when Aaron is involved. I can only see one path for us. I know this is going to sound incredibly corny, but maybe we were meant to be together."

Jack chuckled lightly. "I don't believe in fate, Kate. We make our own future."

"Then how come you kept coming back to me? If we weren't supposed to be together, our relationship would have fallen apart ages ago," she countered.

"Maybe I could never truly leave my life with you behind because I love you," he said. Kate noticed he spoke in the present tense, not the past, of his love for her "Did you ever think of that?"

"If you love me so much, then how could you walk out on me and Aaron?" she demanded.

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words to make her believe him. "Like I said last night, I didn't think I was ready to be a father. I thought I'd never be able to raise Aaron the way you have, and that night he heard us fighting proved my point. If I had been more careful with what I said around the house, if I had just trusted you and believed that you would never have done anything to destroy our relationship, then maybe none of this would have ever happened."

He looked down at the beautiful woman curled up in his arms and wondered why he'd ever found a reason to be angry with her, why he would ever believe anything but the truth she was telling him. Being apart for so long had made him realize, again, just how lucky he was.

"And I think a part of me was always afraid that you'd choose him over me. Even though we were engaged, living together and raising a child, in the back of my mind I was so sure that you would go back to _Sawyer_. That you would run away and leave me alone again."

Kate frowned, not comprehending how he could still have doubts about how much she cared for him. "I would never have left you. Never once during all that we went through here, did I run. No matter how much I wanted to. And I'm not running now," she whispered, echoing the words he'd said to her that first day on the beach.

"No, but you were always the one to," was his reply.

She looked at him sadly, hating to know that she was the one who had turned him into someone so bitter and insecure. "I love you," she said with as much passion as she could muster. "With all my heart. You are the one I chose. Not Sawyer and not anyone else. I need you to know that."

Yet despite her efforts, Jack still didn't look convinced. She vowed to do everything in her power to make it up to him, so that someday he would believe her. Nothing she'd ever told him before had ever been so true and she needed to show him that.

With a sudden boldness more akin to that of the woman she had once been and not the mother she had become, she tilted her head up and kissed him fiercely. She put every last ounce of feeling into the kiss; every instant of sorrow, anguish, joy or fury played across her lips as first she, then he, deepened the moment.

When she finally pulled away, both of them breathless, it was to find herself staring into eyes so filled with desire that she couldn't help what happened next. Her body moved of its own accord, her mouth gravitating back to his without her fully considering the repercussions of her actions.

Jack responded in a way that was only natural, pulling her as close as possible without them merging into one single entity. Kate wrapped her legs around him in a fit of passion, struggling to lift the shirt off his head as she did so.

Knowing exactly what she wanted, he helped her along, nearly ripping the fabric off himself while she worked on her own clothes. Soon he had lifted her up and was carrying her to the couch – neither of them would have been able to make it upstairs – the entire time his lips never moving from her own.

As their bodies pressed against each other on the soft fabric, the blanket falling to the floor, Jack whispered Kate's name over and over, followed only by the words "I love you." No matter how many times Kate heard it, whether she was trailing her arms across Jack's chest or nibbling on his ear, she would always tighten her hold on him and mumble back sweet nothings, promising never to let him go again.

He couldn't do anything but believe her.


	8. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

Not to sound whiny here, but I am a little concerned as to why barely anyone is reviewing this chapter. I'm not sure if you're all really busy, or are simply unhappy with the direction this fic is taking, but dropping from ten reviews in the previous chapter down to three is not very encouraging for me as a writer. To those of you who did review (*hugs*), thank you. And for those of you who have yet to, I would still love to hear your opinion. Don't be afraid to tell me you didn't like the chapter, or to point out a glaringly obvious mistake. I would do so for you, and all I ask is that you do the same for me. Even readers who don't have Fanfiction accounts can still review, simply do it anonymously.

I'm not trying to force you into anything; if you're the kind of person who has never reviewed before and isn't likely to start now, I'm sure you have your own reasons and that is fine with me. But for the people who have been reviewing, please keep on doing so. Not only do your opinions both keep me on track and reassure me that you are still reading my fic, they also make me want to post the next chapter that much sooner for you guys. I'm not expecting a five hundred word review, but even a sentence or two is better than nothing. And after all, if I could find the time to write this chapter, I like to think that you can all find the time to read it. I'm not going to nag you about it, all I'm asking for is a little common courtesy.

Thank you and I hope you are all having a great day.

~Jimelda


	9. You Light My Fire

Yes I have finally updated! It took me long enough, I know and I deeply apologize. Hopefully this chapter will make up for my incredible lateness. I just want to take this opportunity to say a huge Thank You to everyone who has reviewed so far. I would never have gotten this fic to where it is today without your support, especially that of **Phosphotyrosine**, without whose enthusiasm this chapter would never have gotten finished. I dedicate this one to you!

And yes, for those of you who also watch x-Files, the chapter title is in reference to a particular scene from an episode.

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**Chapter 8: You Light My Fire**

_As caves go this wasn't such a bad one. It was spacious, open, warm. Jack watched light filter through cracks in the wall and fall in patches across the dirt-riddled floor. The strangest sense of peace overcame him, despite the nagging sensation that he was needed elsewhere. He pushed it away with no more force than he would a meddlesome fly._

_A shuffling of feet from the mouth of the cavern sent him leisurely turning towards the sound._

Kate awoke to the fading warmth of the afternoon sun as it splayed across her cheek. She groaned softly, working to stretch her aching muscles but finding herself met with resistance.

_The sight of Kate standing in the entrance, wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts and enveloped in a halo of light, had his heart beating faster. She drew him close, curling her lean form around him in a fit of passion that seemed too familiar to be coincidence._

Jack's warm body was pressed against hers, his arms wrapped almost possessively around her waist. She felt herself flush both in embarrassment and – she had to admit to herself – lust at his close proximity. She shied away from the thought, not yet willing to analyze the implications of her temporary lapse in control with him.

He was still suffering from a fever and his body was radiating heat in a way that did nothing to ease her discomfort.

_Jack held Kate closer to his chest as she fought him, squirming uncomfortably against his weight._

_"Hey, where ya' going?" he mumbled softly, enticing her to stay._

Kate listened to Jack's incomprehensible words as she struggled to detangle herself from his suffocating grasp. She returned moments later to place a cool washcloth across his forehead before retreating to a chair across the room.

_He could hear the gentle lapse of waves along a nearby shoreline, scattering him with a faint dusting of salty spray as he lowered Kate to the ground and placed himself over top of her. The rays of sunlight were scattering across them in such a way that was comfortable at first but quickly became too hot for pleasure._

She watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slept fitfully yet soundly. Deciding to allow him a few more hours of sleep – and giving herself more time to think – she gazed out the wide bay windows, watching the sun make its slow descent below the horizon.

Thoughts spun wildly in her head. Despite what Jack had told her in the kitchen, she remained uncertain as to how much faith she could put into him. She wanted nothing more than to give him the benefit of the doubt, but in her mind she knew that would be an irrational thing to do, especially with Aaron's well-being to consider.

_He fought to position the two of them in a more shaded location, only to find himself unable to escape the all-encompassing heat. She seemed to be shedding layers of warmth from every pore of her body._

_"Where are you going?" her seductive voice cut through any last vestiges of pleasure he'd been experiencing. The sound of it was raw and with it came a wave of heat unlike any he had experienced before._

_He slid away from her, desperate to cool himself down, but to no avail. The entire roof of the cave had vanished and there was no protection from the deadly onslaught of the sun. Half-mad with the burning sensation that was spreading to every bone, every bit of flesh, he ran raggedly towards the sounds of the ocean._

She was certain Jack's earlier comments about his job would be proven correct and that worried her. It wasn't about the money; she and Jack both had enough left over from the Oceanic settlements to last them a long time. No, her unease was rooted more deeply than that. She knew Jack well enough to understand that he thrived on responsibility and his inexplicable need to fix things – whether they were broken or not. She and Aaron weren't broken anymore. They were fine on their own and didn't need any more of Jack's misguided – though not intentionally – efforts to repair whatever flaws he saw in them.

Even if she was about to let him do that kind of damage to her and her son, its appeal wouldn't last for long. Jack would be bored after a few weeks and she had no idea what he would do at that point. He wasn't someone who took kindly to being stuck inside all day. When the two of them were together, Kate always had a suspicion that his job at the hospital was what kept him grounded and was why he'd stayed with her and Aaron for as long as he did.

_His vision was blurred by the never-ending red and he felt himself sprawl forward, tripping over an unseen assailant. He threw his hands forward to break his fall, only to realize that he wasn't falling on sand at all. He was falling into the depths of the ocean._

_He opened his mouth to scream Kate's name but a rush of water filled his lungs and all he could manage was the faintest of garbled whispers._

The spasm that rocked through Jack's body jarred her from such pessimistic thoughts. She eyed him warily, preparing herself for another reenactment of the previous night, but he only muttered to himself – she caught the sound of her name and her lips turned up in a brief smile – before lapsing back into a sleep worthy of the dead.

_His limbs were paralyzed in the depths of sea water that swirled around him. He fought with all his will to move, to make any sound at all._

Staring at him intently, debating whether or not to wake him up, Kate was distracted once again by the straggle of hairs that had encompassed the lower half of his face. The Jack she once knew was hiding somewhere behind them and after their experience this morning she was determined to find him.

Gathering a bottle of shaving cream that she hadn't let herself throw away, along with a fresh razor, she began lathering the thick white substance along the contours of his chin.

_The feel of something soft against his cheek startled him into motion. Desperate to create distance between himself and the unseen creature, he forced his uncooperative limbs to propel him forward – whether it was toward the surface or deeper into the depths of the ocean he didn't know. Nor did he have the energy to care._

His arms twitched limply but made no further protest as she made smooth strokes with the razor.

_Jack continued his panicked strokes, working against the dull haze brought on by his steadily decreasing air supply. Unable to stop himself, he opened his mouth in a fit of distress._

She had managed to clear half of his face before he jerked sharply beneath her hands. The razor slipped, leaving a decent sized gash in the process. Both Kate and Jack cried out as the blade sliced into his flesh.

_Instead of the breath of fresh air his body was craving, he was met with nothing but suffocating water as it blocked his airways. His natural gag reflex reacted, working to spew out the unwelcome invader but only drawing more water in._

The world turned violently on its side as she watched the blood creep down his skin. Fighting to keep the nausea at bay – this was far from the worst wound she'd ever seen – she slid her arm beneath Jack's shivering frame. Sweat was dripping down the back of her neck as she managed to half-drag him up the stairs. She willed them both to move faster as he began heaving against her shoulder, moving herself out of the way just as he emptied the contents of his stomach beside her. Sighing in dismay at the mess, she was careful not to let herself or Jack step in the puddles that would surely stain the carpet.

She rummaged frantically through the cupboards after propping his limp body against the shower wall.

"Sorry," she told him before pressing a clean cloth doused in antiseptic against his wound.

Jack squirmed in discomfort, fighting to push away her hands. His head was spinning dizzily and despite not being able to make sense of anything through the haze, he was aware of an uncomfortable sensation on his jaw line. He tried to force it away, much to the protests of his aching limbs. The stroke of a soft hand against his other cheek startled him enough to open his eyes.

At first he wondered why he wasn't staring into the depths of the ocean. Smokey tendrils curled around his mind, distorting the scene, and he blinked profusely against the harsh light, bringing the image into focus. He found himself gazing through heavy lids into a very familiar face.

"Kate?" His question was more of a moan uttered from between parched lips. He tried again, stronger this time. "Kate?" The distressed expression on her face seemed out of place in this setting; her entire presence was wrong somehow. He couldn't remember why.

"What're you – " A fit of dry heaves interrupted the conversation as she helped him lean over the toilet. When his stomach realized that it had nothing left to throw up, he slumped back against the wall, panting heavily. He felt the trickle of something wet down his cheek; reaching up to touch it, his hand came back red.

The image before him flickered like an old television screen, threatening to turn off and send him plunging back into darkness. He wasn't yet ready to lose hold of the tedious grasp he held on reality.

"I - don't - under - stand." The disjointed phrase tore its way out of his raw throat, painful in his desperate attempt to make sense of the situation.

"I was helping you shave when you nearly jumped out of your skin and the razor slipped. I'm sorry, Jack."

The corners of his mouth turned down in a frown that would have been comical in other circumstances, but only succeeded in frightening Kate. The perfectly normal sentence made no sense in this context.

"Where'd you find a razor? We used the last ones a few weeks ago."

Kate wasn't sure whether to take Jack's remark seriously or not. He mumbled to himself deliriously before addressing her again, this time the fervor in his eyes that of authority.

"Get some butterfly clips. There should be a few in the medical bag in my tent. Do you know what they look like?" He watched her, clearly waiting for an answer. She shook her head.

"Then bring the bag to me."

"Okay." She hoped Jack was too far gone to hear the doubt in her voice; the last thing she needed was for him to worry that she wasn't competent enough to look after him.

_I can do this_. She repeated the mantra to herself over and over again until she almost believed it. But one look at the ugly cut beneath the washcloth still held against Jack's warm jaw quickly made her change her mind. If even looking at it made her stomach turn, there was no way she'd be able to treat it.

"Kate..." Jack was becoming impatient as he stared at the shadows undulating beneath the boughs of the forest trees. The sun that was once painful against his skin had become soothing once more.

"Okay. I'll go get your bag for you, but you have to do something for me." She firmly cupped his head in her hand, staring at him intently until she had his attention.

"I need you to keep holding this against your cut." She wrapped his hands around the damp fabric, helping him to apply pressure. "Can you do that?"

"Sure." It was almost a sigh that escaped from between his lips.

"Good. I'll be right back. Stay still until then."

She left him hunched around the toilet, the long-unused muscles in his arm rippling in their weakened efforts to continue holding the washcloth in place as he fought against the dry heaves that overwhelmed him. She could still hear his coughs in the kitchen as she picked up the phone and dialed a number from the fridge.

_It's only for emergencies,_ Jack had once told her. Even now heart swelled at the severity he had used. She still wasn't used to the feeling of being wanted.

"Hello?" The resonate sound of a man's deep voice echoed through the phone, cutting off her dismal thoughts.

"Marc? Marc Silverman?"

There was a brief hesitation before he answered. "Who is this?"

"It's Kate Austen. I'm not sure if you remember me. Jack introduced us a few years ago at St. Sebastian's Christmas party?"

"Sure, I remember. What do you want?"

She blinked at his underlying hostility; she'd barely known him and he had no reason to be upset with her.

"It's Jack. He really hurt himself shaving and he's kind of out of it right now and I don't know what to do." She had to fight down the growing panic in her chest before she could continue. "He told me to get some butterfly clips but I don't know what those are and I can't do this. Not right now. Not with him."

The phone went silent. Kate strained to hear the slightest noise on the other line and was met with nothing. She waited for the dial tone to tell her he'd hung up.

"Where are you?" Marc asked after a long pause. Kate let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She quickly spewed out her address.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Think you can keep everything under control until then?"

Her teeth ground together at the thinly disguised sarcasm beneath his commanding tone. Before she could even bother to answer the line went dead.

She wondered what exactly Jack had been thinking when he'd given her the number. The thought gave rise to the guilt she could feel settling in the pit of her stomach; guilt over all that she had lost and all that had brought them to this point.

There was one call she had to make before checking up on him again.

"Cassidy?" she asked once her friend had picked up. "Do you think you could look after Aaron tonight?"

"Sure thing, hon. What's going on?" The other woman's genuine concern nearly brought tears to Kate's eyes and she had to breathe deeply through waves of frustration and concern.

"Jack's here." She didn't give Cassidy a chance to interject. "He's not doing so well and he's going to be staying the night. Aaron already saw him this morning and I don't want him to get even more attached right now. The last thing he needs is to see Jack like this."

The way Kate said it made Cassidy realize something very serious was happening. She refrained from commenting on it; this was a crucial moment in whatever last threads of a relationship Jack and Kate had, and Cassidy sensed her friend had to go through it on her own.

"Do you want me to come over there?" she asked politely, knowing Kate well enough to be certain she would decline.

"No. I'll get Veronica to drive Aaron over when they get back. I just need to sort this out." Kate was still fighting to blink back her tears. She wondered if this she was borderline hysterical at this point.

"I've gotta get back to Jack. Thanks Cass."

Jack was still resting against the cool porcelain cover of the toilet seat when she returned, his breathing heavy and the washcloth discarded on the floor. A thin line of red was slowly making its way down his neck. Kate wiped it up tenderly, hating the bright red stains that appeared against the pure white fabric.

"Kate." He whispered her name with the same reverence as one lover would of another. She was struck numb by the way his lips caressed the word, making it into something desirable and precious.

"Do you really think I'm good at this?"

Her nerves, already shot past hell to the point of no return, only unraveled more at the question. Trying to determine whether or not he was lucid, she couldn't help the frightened sound that erupted from her mouth as he grabbed her arm. Holding her steadfast in his vice-like grip, strong despite the overwhelming exhaustion in the rest of his body, he gazed up at her with eyes clouded by the raging need she had come to associate with him.

Only this time, she wasn't sure whether he was longing for a fix or for her.

She didn't even have time to answer his question before he rapidly fired another at her.

"Will you marry me?"

Her throat made another squeaking noise – one of emotional pain, rather than physical – as the walls she had fought to build around herself since that night threatened to crumble down. A war was being waged inside her, an inescapable flood looming on the horizon. Sooner or later the dam would break.

She no longer had a choice.

The cry of agony that tore its way from Jack's previously taut and alert body shocked her enough so that she crawled away without a second thought. He writhed on the floor, his arms and legs contorting as they worked against whatever pain he was going through.

Again her body acted on its own accord, dragging her back across the room in a vain attempt to soothe his obvious discomfort. She winced as he screamed again, the tortured sound sinking straight to her bones. His cut had opened again as well, leaking blood down onto his shirt and leaving drops on the floor.

If she had been able to look at the moment from an objective point of view, she would have thought it to be a gruesome crime scene. The bright red splotches on the floor echoed the tears that – by this point – were streaming freely down her face, uninhibited and unnoticed in her frantic efforts to calm Jack down.

She grabbed hold of his waist and squirmed to position herself around him, her arms tightening around him, pinning him to her. She thanked a higher power for the afternoons she managed to spend at the gym.

In an instant he was still, sensing the domineering force above him. Kate had barely let out a sigh of relief before he was fighting again, ripping her off and sending her flying into the toilet. She heard the impact before she felt it; her head buzzing as her vision unfocused. Blinking to clear her view as she steadied herself against the smooth porcelain, an idea born of desperation came to her mind.

Not giving Jack a chance to push her away again, she clamped her fingers around his arms and hoisted him upwards, her own joints popping in her strain to pull him to his feet. Their feet entwined over each other, almost making them both trip, as she shoved him roughly into the shower, her momentum carrying her along as well.

Her hands grappled for the knob, slippery from Jack's late night shower the previous night. She vaguely noticed his damp boxers lying at the side of the tiled floor before she turned the water on full-force, grasping the nozzle tightly and directing its scalding spray over to Jack.

Kate felt the steam immediately rise off of his skin as it came in contact with the heat and she was thankful that its touch seemed to distract him for the moment. He gradually sunk lower to the floor until he was sitting, his arms curled around himself as though trying to guard his body from the onslaught.

She fastened the shower head back in its clasp and sat down beside him, running her hands along his arms as shivers wracked his frame.

_Where the hell is Marc?_ She wondered, while out-loud she chanted words of encouragement. Whether they were for herself or Jack she wasn't sure, but as her steady voice filled the enclosure she was able to draw from the few reserves of determination that she had left. She only hoped it would be enough to get her and Jack through another tough night. Only this time she took comfort in knowing they wouldn't have to go through it alone.


	10. Together We Will

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Lost. Don't get me started on how much I wish that wasn't the case. Nor does the title of this chapter belong to me. It is actually the name of a campaign run by SickKids because I no longer posses the creative skills needed to come up with my own title. That and it actually fits with the chapter.

**A/N: **You guys are too good to me. After surprising me with the highest number of reviews I have ever gotten for a fic, I am ashamed at myself for waiting over a month to give you another update. Please forgive me. Don't feed me to Ol' Smokey. Not yet anyway.

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**Chapter 9: Together We Will**

Marc pulled up beside the quaint brown house with the white trim a good twenty minutes after the phone call with Kate, his heart heavy and his mind screaming at him to drive away. It wasn't too late to back out yet.

The image of Jack fighting for him over thirty years ago entered his head. Unwittingly he found himself standing in the doorway, his trauma kit slung over his shoulder and his hand on the doorbell before his actions caught up with him. By now he'd made his choice, even if it was more instinctual than a rational decision, and there was nothing he could do but wait for someone to answer the door. He shuffled the paper bag he was holding from hand to hand nervously.

He'd always been the one to run away. If the events at school that day had been reversed, without a doubt he would have left Jack alone. Jack was the kind of person who stuck up for others, who had a good head on his shoulders and who was forceful enough to get things done. Marc was the opposite: shy, reserved, never too proud to turn to a bottle when he'd had a rough day.

Jack, he knew, had such high morals because he was raised by a man with the opposite. Marc had watched him work to overcome that all his life. So when Jack started slipping up, coming home drunk or calling him at four in the morning to pick him up, Marc got angry. He hated to see what was happening to his friend and didn't want to face him now when Jack was clearly at his worst.

But he had no other choice. Jack would have done the same thing for him – in all honesty Jack would have been beside him from the beginning – which made him a much better friend than Marc would ever be.

By this time the door still hadn't opened. After ringing the bell more forcefully, Marc was beginning to doubt whether anyone was home. More out of habit than anything else he tried turning the knob and was surprised to find the front door unlocked.

As soon as he stepped inside the dimly lit hallway he became aware of the sound of rushing water that seemed to be emanating from upstairs. His leather shoes thumped loudly on the carpeted stairs as he made his way up them, nearly stepping in puddles of what appeared to be vomit when he reached the top. He caught sight of the closed bathroom door with waves of steam curling out through the cracks and busted it open with more force than necessary. He skidded across the floor, slippery with condensed steam, nearly slamming into the counter as he worked to steady himself.

The door of the shower opened cautiously. He found himself face-to-face with Kate, clad in nothing more than a bra and her underwear, and soaking wet. Her face was flushed with heat and she was staring at him with an expression of surprise.

"How is he?" Marc called out, sliding off the shoes and jacket he had worn to work that day – he'd barely walked in the door after his shift before Kate called him – setting down his bags and sidling into the shower beside her. Jack was huddled up in a corner, as far away from the relentless hot spray as possible; the boxers covering his lower half were drenched, as were the pair beside him. Marc frowned, wondering what kind of antics Jack and Kate had been up to before his withdrawal symptoms overcame him. He raised an eyebrow at the half-shaved mess of a beard that covered Jack's face, focusing on the ugly red gash across his jawbone. It had stopped bleeding but would need to be closed to prevent infection.

Marc felt his friend's forehead tenderly, steadying him as he winced backward, slamming into the tile-patterned wall.

"It's okay, Jack. It's just me." He tried to maintain a soothing edge to his voice as he worked to calm Jack down. That was one thing he'd always been better at: handling the patients. Sure, Jack was undoubtedly the smarter of the two, but Marc had always prided himself on his people skills. However, he'd never had to treat Jack like a patient before and wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation.

"He's running a fever." He turned his attention to Kate, his words clipped. "He needs to cool down before it gets worse." She nodded, biting her lip anxiously and turning the water down to cold, quickly stepping out of the way, shivering at the cold water droplets that still managed to connect with her warm skin.

Marc arched his back at the sudden drop in temperature, feeling the cold liquid soak through his white dress shirt, drip down his body. Jack began thrashing against him, shouting loudly in discomfort as he too felt the water go from scalding hot to freezing cold. He squirmed to get away, latching on to Marc and attempting to throw him out of the way in his efforts to crawl from the shower. Marc fought back, pushing Jack into the corner, holding out his arm to Kate.

Her hands shook as she passed him the nozzle, watching him spray it against Jack's taut body.

"Stop it!" she screamed at Marc, Jack's desperate cries of pain growing louder. "You're hurting him!"

The look on his face as he turned to glare at her, his eyes a wicked sea of ice, sent more shivers along her spine than the water did.

"You called me here to do what you couldn't, Kate. I'm here to help him and, like it or not, this is what Jack needs. If we let his fever get any worse the other withdrawal symptoms will only be more painful for him later. So if you can't handle this, why don't you wait outside until I'm done?"

She bristled at his command, so alike the tone he had used with her on the phone that she had to clench her fists together to stop from slamming them against him.

"Who do you think – "

Marc cut the beginnings of her rant short. "I'm someone who cares about Jack and who isn't afraid to do what's necessary to help him. Unlike you, who drops him and runs as soon as it gets too tough."

He watched the fire slowly drain from her eyes and felt a brief stirring of guilt. True, she had abandoned Jack when he needed her the most, had left him to struggle through his problems on his own, but that didn't mean she needed it thrown in her face.

Before he could apologize, he felt the palm of Kate's hand connect sharply with his skin. Then she was gone. Marc heard the bathroom door slam shut in the silence punctuated only by Jack's whimpering. He rubbed his stinging cheek absentmindedly, training the spray back on his friend, hating himself for the tired moans Jack made. He stared at the circles beneath Jack's eyes and wondered how long it had been since he'd gotten a decent sleep.

"Come on, buddy. Just a few more minutes. We'll get you through this, I promise."

Soon the feverish tinge to Jack's skin had all but disappeared, leaving him shivering violently.

Marc turned off the shower and stepped out to grab Jack a towel from the rack, shedding water all across the floor in the process. He quickly wrapped up his friend since Jack didn't seem able to perform the action himself. He was resting in a heap on the floor, his limbs feeling more like heavy weights than anything else, until Marc heaved him to his feet and supported his frame as they made their way to the bedroom.

Kate was sitting on the bed. Marc glanced down, ashamed to see tear tracks covering her cheeks. She blinked at him angrily through red-rimmed eyes.

"You had no right to say that." Marc nodded, hanging his head even lower.

"I know and I apologize, Kate. I went too far. But can we focus on Jack right now?" He waited until she acknowledged his request before continuing. "Do you have any spare blankets?"

She headed downstairs while Marc stripped the crisp white sheets off the bed and helped Jack lie down against the headboard. He was sweating profusely, despite the cooling effects of the shower. Marc worried that his fever was getting worse.

Kate returned to the bedroom, her arms laden with piles of blankets – the ones she always used when Aaron was sick. She watched Marc chuckle slyly at the cartoon spaceships, dinosaurs and patterned beaches on them.

"Jack's gonna love that when he wakes up," he remarked, pulling a thermometer out of the blue nylon trauma kit he'd brought with him. After sticking an end in Jack's mouth and waiting a few seconds, he frowned. The digital screen read 102.1.

"I need a cold compress. His fever's still pretty high and I'd like to cool him down a bit more before doing anything else."

"There's one downstairs in the fridge."

As soon as Marc left the room she spread the blankets carefully over Jack's shaking frame, piling them on one layer after another. She sat beside him, stroking his wet hair. He twitched in dismay at the feather light touch along his scalp and grunted softly before managing to form words.

"Did you drug me again, Katie?" The corners of her mouth turned down automatically, the ragged whisper of her childhood nickname bringing to mind the crack of a dirt-covered baseball connecting with a bat. She could have shut her eyes and allowed her subconscious mind to conjure up images of dusted roads and rusty bicycles.

"No Jack. You did this to yourself," she replied wretchedly.

Marc returned to see Jack's face distorted in concentration as he woozily mulled over Kate's words.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, catching the miserable look she was wearing as he placed the chilled packet on Jack's warm forehead.

"What does it matter to you?" Kate couldn't help snapping at him. He shrugged.

"Just being polite."

Once he was satisfied that the compress was doing its job he reached into his bag again, this time emerging with a small plastic object in hand. "A pulse oximeter," he explained to Kate. He clipped it onto Jack's finger, watching as bright red numbers appeared.

"O2 stats at 93. 72 bpm. Not bad. Could be better, but considering the circumstances..."

Jack heard the male voice above him, fought through the lead weights pressing against his eyelids. He thrashed against the ropes that were surely binding him, his efforts churning up bile in his stomach. He rolled over and spat violently.

Marc jumped back as Jack nearly threw up on him. He watched his friend beat at the blankets, tangling them into a mess at his feet. Somehow Jack wrenched himself upright and stood there on shaky legs, staring blankly at Marc who wondered if Jack was seeing him or someone else entirely.

He'd come to the conclusion that Jack wasn't aware of his presence at all when the delirious man took one delicate step and pitched forward, nearly falling to the floor if Marc hadn't caught him. Immediately when he came in contact with Jack's scorching flesh, Marc felt his friend's fist connect with his face. He yelped.

"I'm definitely gonna have a bruise tomorrow," he remarked dryly, hefting Jack onto the bed. "Can you hold him down, Kate? There's one more thing I've gotta do." From his trauma bag he produced a thin needle, the sharp tip catching Kate's attention.

"You're going to stick that into him_ now_?" She crossed her arms protectively, placing herself directly in front of Jack. "I don't think so."

Marc sighed. Kate was certainly wearing down his patience. He wondered how long he'd be able to put up with her antics.

"Jack needs a tox screen and I thought this would be easier than bringing him back to St. Sebastian's." He stepped around her carelessly, focusing his efforts on Jack as he attempted to wrap a tourniquet around his upper arm.

"Stay still for just a sec. It'll be over soon," he murmured to the frantic man whose fists were still flying in all directions. Marc ducked lightly to avoid one to the eye. "Dammit. Kate, you have to hold him down or I'll never get this done."

She continued glaring at him. He was sure his hair would soon catch on fire with the heat of her gaze.

"Fine. I'll hold him down and you can stick him with the needle." That got her attention. Marc clearly wasn't giving in and the last thing she wanted was to have him miss Jack's vein or end up stabbing himself; no matter how much she hated the guy, she'd hate herself even more if something happened to him because she couldn't put her own pride out of the way for the sake of Jack's health.

She reached for Jack's flailing limbs as a sign of her submission, pinning them to the mattress as Marc expertly drew blood from the vein at the base of his elbow. He removed the needle carefully, sticking the tip into a glass vial before unwrapping the tourniquet and placing a bandage over the spot, signaling Kate to release Jack.

They both stepped back as his arms relapsed into their restless swinging.

"What're you doin' here?" he asked in Marc's general direction. His words were slurred from exhaustion, shutters still wracking his frame every once in a while.

"I came to help. Kate told me you weren't doing too good..."

Jack's eyes nearly rolled back in his head when he opened them to see a familiar face standing beside him.

"You're _dead_! What the hell are you doing here?"

Marc raised an eyebrow. His friend was too far gone into the recesses of his own mind, too far lost in the cravings to make sense any more.

"Okay. I thought we'd wait this out, see if it would get any better, but that's not happening." He disappeared into steamy bathroom, guiltily eying the puddles that drenched the tiled floor, and returned with a paper shopping bag in his hand, from which he pulled a bottle of bourbon and two prescription pill containers he'd picked up from the pharmacy earlier.

"No."

Marc turned, startled as the word ripped itself from Kate's mouth. Her eyes had narrowed into cat-like slits, her gaze fixated on the bottle.

"How dare you bring that in here? How _dare _you?"

"Kate, he's suffering from serious withdrawal right now. With all the shit that's been in his system he can't just go cold turkey. It'll kill him," Marc tried to reason with her.

She clenched her hands into fists against her chest, trying as hard as she could to control the urge to hit him. "Not here. I didn't call you over here so you could give Jack his next fix. I wanted your help. I trusted you!"

"Then trust me on this. Jack's body couldn't survive the withdrawal otherwise. Already the hallucinations are starting and if he doesn't take something soon, then he's at risk of a seizure."

Kate looked up at him, her eyes wide and glittering. She hadn't realized just how quickly this already shitty situation could turn into something much worse. Her head fell into her hands as she furiously blinked back tears. She couldn't do this anymore. She had no idea to help Jack, according to Marc she was only making things worse. She wasn't cut out to handle this, to handle Jack.

"If you're so sure how to treat him, then why don't you take him back to your place?" she shouted, her voice breaking on the last line. Marc patted her shoulder gently, his sympathy temporarily overpowering his resentment towards her, and this time she didn't flinch away at his touch.

"_You _called _me_, Kate. Not the other way around. I can't bring him home, I don't think my girlfriend needs to deal with an angry man going through withdrawal. She already has me," he added, trying to lighten the mood. Kate laughed, an unexpected gurgle that ruptured from her throat. This was the man she'd been hoping for when she'd called Marc in the first place.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Her question sounded pitiful even to her own ears.

"I don't – " Marc stopped. He wasn't about to lie to her, that wasn't what she needed right now. But he wasn't about to tell the truth either. "This isn't about me, it's about Jack. He needs you, Kate. You've been there for him in ways I was never able to, and I'm asking you to be there for him one last time. He needs your support, that's all he ever wanted.

"You don't have to do this alone anymore, Kate. I'm here to help, that's why you called me isn't it? We can get through this together, but you have to start trusting me. I've dealt with these kinds of cases before, I have experience that you don't. So help me help Jack, okay?"

She rubbed her eyes, angry for losing it in front of this man whom she knew nothing about other than that he had a history with Jack and was now using his own personal time to help make his friend's withdrawal easier.

"Okay?" Marc repeated. She nodded her head slowly.

"Okay." He smiled and for a moment Kate saw someone other than a haggard doctor trying unsuccessfully to put aside his personal resentments and aid someone he cared about. Instead she saw the man who had led Jack on a fair share of adventures in his early days – or at least, the man from the few childhood stories Jack had allowed himself to share with her.

"Let's do this." It was the face of a man she was surprised to find herself beginning to admire just the slightest bit.

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This chapter was more of an experiment for me as I worked out the kinks in Marc's character. Don't count him out just yet, he's got a good heart. He just has a funny way of showing it.

Up next: back to the acual plot. Who needs character development? Jack gets a treat. Marc and Kate have an honest conversation (with very little yelling. No, wait, that's not possible).


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